


Fellow Travelers

by cosidrix



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: (road trips on foot more like it?), Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Baggage, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Magical Realism, Post-Calamity Ganon, Post-Canon, Road Trips, Sheikah Culture, Yiga Clan Apologism, if you want to read it as pining then go for it i left it vague for that purpose, it's ambiguously platonic link x zelda
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:27:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 27,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26608240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosidrix/pseuds/cosidrix
Summary: It's two years after the defeat of Calamity Ganon. Link and Zelda have made little progress on their own healing-- as well as that of their relationship with one another-- though the rest of Hyrule is well into it's rebuilding phase. But avoiding confrontation isn't so easy when you're stuck alone together on a several weeks-long hiking trip around the continent, meeting mysterious strangers and trying new things, all while a century of grief steadily heats up to a boil within you.(Updates every Tuesday.)
Relationships: Link & Zelda (Legend of Zelda), Link/Zelda (Legend of Zelda)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 32





	1. The Castle

**Author's Note:**

> This is a successor to my other BoTW fics. I'd recommend you read my oneshot "Leave The Horror Here" first as a prologue for world-building, but it's not necessary. 
> 
> A few minor things:  
> 1) This was written pre-BoTW2. I have no doubt much of that will render this totally out of line with canon once it's released.  
> 2) I'm a die-hard "Link was raised on The Great Plateau" booster, not for any particular reason, I just am. It's not central to the plot but it comes up now and again.  
> 3) Many things have been changed up a little for realism. Such as stables having actual rooms for guests, the Hyrulean races' towns being larger than they are in game, etc. You'll catch on, not much was messed with. 
> 
> This is my first longfic, so we're on this journey together! Enjoy!

“Those? Those are called the Dueling Peaks. Once upon a time, thousands of years ago, our goddess Hylia split that mountain in half so we could talk to the people who lived on the other side of it. Can you say  _ Dueling Peaks,  _ Link? Go ahead, honey.  _ Dueling… Dueling-- _ ”

“Don’t waste your time, dear,” said Link’s father with a characteristic gruffness, from the other side of the front door that had been left open this evening to invite the breeze. 

Link, just barely four years old in this distant memory, was seated on his mother’s lap on the porch of their meager house on the Great Plateau. Night was descending leisurely over the horizon, and the air was cool with the promise of the oncoming winter. But his mother was always warm, and he had wordlessly stood before her with his arms outstretched until she picked him up. 

“Oh, be quiet, would you? Link will talk when he’s ready.” His mother said sweetly, brushing the hair away from Link’s face and giving him a peck on the temple. “Besides, if he’s anything like you, he’ll never know when to shut up. We’d better cherish the silence while we’ve got it.”

Link’s father snorted and gave some sort of retort, but Link was too busy pointing at another figure in the distance to hear it. He made an insistent noise until his mother looked out to what he was trying to indicate. 

“Are you talking about the volcano? That’s Death Mountain. Pretty scary, huh? There’s people there who eat  _ rocks,  _ can you believe it?” 

Link turned to wrinkle his nose at her in disgust.

“Sounds like your cooking,” His father chuckled, stepping outside and closing the door behind him. “Are you educating our son about Hyrule?”

“To the best of my ability, seeing as I’ve never gone much further than Hyrule field.”

“Ah, but I have. Give him here.” His father reached down to swing Link up into his arms. Link eagerly clutched at the front of his father’s shirt and followed where he was pointing. “See that? That’s the Castle of Hyrule, where I used to work long ago. Maybe someday, you’ll be a knight just like your old man, hm?”

His mother smiled up at them. “Maybe someday, you’ll go exploring all these places. And you can come back and tell us about your adventures.”   
  


* * *

The cold water was a well needed shock to Link’s system this early in the morning. With the sound of carpenters getting to work as the sun rose everyday, he almost preferred when he used to have to sleep outdoors.  _ Just once _ , he thought,  _ I’d like to sleep in.  _ He was glad that they were making such progress on the reconstruction of Hyrule Castle, he just wished they could keep it down, you know?  _ Savior of Hyrule trying to get some damn shut-eye over here _ .

It had taken a few months before it had become halfway livable, but once it was, Zelda offered him his old bedroom back. It should have felt more like coming home, but that's neither here nor there. Memory loss leaves unseen wounds that extend beyond the lack of remembering.

Of course, being in his old room meant that he was just down the hall from Zelda again. He heard her quiet footsteps, late into the night, when she would pace the halls of the Castle. He heard her idle outside his door before walking-- stomping, more like it-- away. He knew he was merely the strawman for her anger. He knew that there was no easy cure to this sort of hurt. He knew not to follow her. 

Painful as it was for both of them, they didn’t have the answers for each other’s woes. All they could do was grin and bear it, but at least they were doing so together again, as they had been for the past couple of years.

The knock at Link’s door came right as he was walking out of his room’s personal bathroom. He tossed the damp towel in the general direction of his bed but it landed on the floor much like a lot of his belongings. Hero of Hyrule or not, he was still a young man.

Eila, an Rito woman that was part of the domestic staff and aided Zelda often, stood outside. “Good morning, Link. Her royal highness asked me to tell you that she is unable to join you for your meeting this morning, but she will come find you when she is available.”

Link asked through a yawn, “Where’s she going?”

“I’m not sure, she didn’t tell me.”

“Okay, well, thanks for letting me know.” Link began to close the door but was interrupted by Eila stepping forward just a little.

“Uh, Link, sir--” Eila said, and Link tried not to cringe at the “sir” title that everyone insisted on using for him these days, “Perhaps this is a bit out of line, but I thought it would be helpful to let you know she’s being… rather--”

“Zelda-ish?”

Eila winced and shrugged. “I’d say  _ difficult _ .”

“Sounds like her. Thanks for the heads up.”

“You’re welcome,” she smiled, “Have a nice day, sir.”

He nodded once and closed the door. 

After getting dressed (in clean clothes, now  _ that  _ was something he appreciated about being back in the Castle) and pulling his hair back into a loose braid at the back of his neck, he set out. The sun was making quick work of warming the stone walls, but it wasn’t quite there yet. He crossed his arms in front of his chest to fend off the morning chill. Carpenters, metalsmiths, and maids alike paid him no attention as he strolled by, the charm of heroism having been lost by the normalcy of living with one another. Zelda was as generous as any monarch should be, and gave the laborers room and board either in one of the Castle’s many visitor suites or hastily rebuilt homes just beyond the moat in way of thanks for their hard work. In a decade or two, perhaps Hyrule would be returned to its former glory entirely if the current pace was anything to go off of. 

There was a particular pride in Link’s heart. It’s not that he took all the credit for the restoration, no, that was a deliberate and enduring effort from all the people of Hyrule. He merely got the ball rolling, simply demonstrated that it was possible. But he was proud of them. And he was proud of himself, too. 

The chapel on the way to the dining hall was easy to miss. The faded wooden door opened to a modestly decorated room, with just a few rows of pews leading to a statue of Hylia. It was larger than most others in Hyrule, reaching nearly to the ceiling. Link knelt before her as he did each morning. He humbly touched his forehead to the cold pedestal she stood on and prayed. He no longer prayed for her to bestow strength upon him, nor did he plead with her to see how hard he was fighting and to be kind enough to lend a hand. In fact, his prayers were mostly silent. He just offered a moment for them to be alone together in quiet contemplation, and to remind her that he had not forgotten what she had done for him. For all of them. 

Link was late to the breakfast hall as usual. The chefs rose before the sun, preparing for the castle staff to enter in their sleepy droves before starting the day’s work. Most of the serving plates had been picked over, though Link did manage to snag a generous slice of ham and some strange exotic fruit, no doubt imported from Faron. The early harvests were excellent this year. He sat himself at the end of a dining table, far apart the last few lingerers, and sank his teeth into the juicy flesh of something not-quite-peach-like but delicious all the same. Typically, he ate breakfast with Zelda. Or rather, she waited impatiently for him to finish and prattled tersely about the kingdom’s going-ons. Link loosely listened and offered insight when it was requested, but otherwise focused on his food.

He assumed that Zelda just felt compelled to tell him these things out of courtesy, in respect to his status as the most highly decorated royal knight. Mostly, Link just appreciated the time spent with her, rare as it was. 

He honestly hadn’t been sure what to expect after their reunion, but he knew it wasn’t this. During the day, Zelda was often nowhere to be found while she busied herself with the reconstruction plans. Queenhood suited her. She wore her royal responsibility like a second skin, born and bred for it. Despite the lack of any official coronation, Zelda slid into the role easily. Hyrule was desperate enough for leadership that they gladly forwent tradition, and followed her into a new dawn. 

Link wished he felt as saved. When he saw Zelda, he saw the weight of the world on her trembling shoulders. He saw the righteous rigidity born from years of relentless suffering. He saw the grief-- after all, it was the same home they lost. Few Hylians remember the world before it sunk into the Calamity. Link and Zelda were largely alone in their particular sorrows. She ached as he ached, yet somehow their twin agonies only distanced them. 

He longed for her to heal, perhaps even more than he longed for it himself. Perhaps it was because he was the last man alive who knew her,  _ really  _ knew her, before all of this. Mostly, she was foreign to him. A stranger who only mimicked the girl he once knew like the back of his hand. The brief glimpses of true familiarity only startled him now. It felt as though Zelda would never be  _ Zelda  _ ever again. Lost to time were the long nights spent reading together by candlelight, the childish pranks they would play on one another, the hugs and the laughter and the trust.

Link finished his breakfast alone. 

He steepled his fingers under his chin and watched across the grand room. Decorators deftly hung newly dyed tapestries on either side of freshly installed stained glass windows. Hyrule Castle was not only being restored but thoroughly renovated to meet more modern expectations. It would be a sight to behold upon its completion, though that was still several years away. 

“Are you finished, sir?”

Link jumped, startled by the voice of a young Zora kitchen staff member from behind him. He stepped back apologetically, “Oh, sorry, I--”

Chuckling, Link assured him, “No, you’re alright. Just lost in thought.” When he began to collect Link’s tableware in silence, Link asked, “Did Zelda come down for breakfast already?”

“I don’t believe so, sir. I can ask the other staff if they’ve seen her?”

Link shook his head, “That’s okay, I’m up for a scavenger hunt.”

The Zora smiled, nodded, and left in the direction of the kitchen. 

The corridors of the Castle uncurled their winding paths before Link as he searched for Zelda. The architecture lacked precision as a byproduct of having been expanded and remodeled dozens of times over several centuries. If it wasn’t for the many years that Link lived here, both before and after the Calamity, he would’ve had no hope in exploring it on his own. He remembered so many years ago when he first achieved royal knighthood and was quartered here. Then, the sprawling halls were daunting. Now, they were home. 

He peeked into every room he came across while sidestepping the many workers and their tools. Mid-morning light shone through the windows in bursts, some reaching brilliant colors from the stained glass near the ceilings. Hyrule was waking up to a beautiful, peaceful day, and everyone was similarly thankful. Soon, the Gerudo women would stretch languidly in the sun, and Zoras would rise from their sleeping pools. The Gorons would take up their mining work while they sang together, the Ritos would launch into the bluing sky. Morning looked different for every Hyrulean, but they were certainly safer times now, at least. 

He ascended the Castle’s floors until he reached the hall with Zelda’s study at the end. The hall was wide though the ceilings drooped lower than most within the Castle, likely because the royal quarters were some of the oldest parts of all. It appeared as though it was being assessed for structural repairs. 

Link tentatively tapped a man holding some kind of tool that he couldn’t even begin to understand and asked, “Uh, excuse me? Do you know if Queen Zelda is in her study?”

The man gave him a look that read,  _ aren’t you her babysitter? _ and gruffly replied, “Yeah, she went in awhile ago. Was carrying a load of books. Looked real serious, too.” 

That was nothing out of the ordinary. Zelda had always been a voracious reader and frequented the library since she first learned to walk. But the tone of voice in which the carpenter spoke to Link had him furrowing his brow. He nodded in thanks and approached the ornate study door. 

He knocked and knelt before the door, head bowing out of habit. Despite his own high ranking, it was custom not to greet a king or a queen with eye contact. Prior to the Calamity, Zelda’s status as a princess made her exempt from this rule. This was one of the many new habits he’d had to learn when interacting with her. It was merely a formality, and had it not been for the others lingering nearby, Link wouldn’t have adhered so strongly to the rules. But he knew, especially with their friendship in this rocky state, he could not disrespect her in front of other subjects. 

The old door sighed open. 

Link began to speak, “Your--”

“I was going to come get you when I was  _ finished _ .”

He rolled his eyes at the floor where she could not see. “Your highness,” he greeted her and continued in his best knight voice, keenly aware of the watchful eyes on his back, “I was concerned for the royal lady’s wellbeing.”

“I’m just fine. Thank you for your concern,” she said coldly, “Well, if you’re already here, then come in.”

With Zelda’s permission, Link rose and looked at her. Her eyes were sunken with sleeplessness. She wore her delicate morning robe with her arms crossed tightly over her chest. Link did not comment on her disheveled appearance, but stepped around her and entered the study. 

Zelda closed the door with a little more force than necessary and said, “Don’t make me point out the fact that I’m your  _ queen _ and you’re supposed to listen to me at least once in a while.”

Link shrugged, “You’re the queen, I can’t  _ make  _ you point out anything.”

Zelda narrowed her eyes. The corner of Link’s mouth twitched upward. She said, “Alright, fine. Come here.” She crossed the room to her wide desk by the window and Link followed close behind. 

On her desk were several books on geography, travel, and Hyrulean cultural overviews per region. They framed a topographically-minded map of Hyrule, one in which several locations were circled in black ink. A dotted line ran jaggedly through the terrain, connecting them in a loop. Link’s eyes scanned over it briefly, then returned to Zelda. She was staring at him expectantly. He asked, “What’s… this?”

Zelda sighed and ran her fingers and pushed stray strands of short, golden hair from her away from her face. “A travel plan. I want to visit all these places and this is the route that I’d like to take.”

Link looked back down at the map. “Uh huh.”

“I need your input. You’re the only person who has gone-- well,  _ everywhere _ , and your insight is… valuable.” Zelda crossed her arms. “I was up all night doing the necessary research for this sort of trip, and I believe I’ve determined the most efficient path. I’ve also created a list of necessary supplies, though I’ve included several small townships and stables on the way for restocking.”

Link blinked at her. “Zelda, I-- why?”

She set her jaw and looked away. “Because... I think that I might be interested in writing a book.”

Link waited for her to continue, but when she didn’t, he prompted, “What sort of book?”

Zelda was quiet for a moment in contemplation. Then, she turned and gazed out the window. She finally said, “So much of it… is just gone. People. Homes.  _ Stories _ .” She glanced down, placed a hand on the sturdy, dark wood of her desk. “My father gifted this to me when I was ten. He told me the finest woodworker in all of Hyrule made it special for me. I asked if I might be able to thank him for such beautiful work, but he told me that it was from Deya Village and it was too far away.  _ Maybe when you’re older and you start learning royal relations, you can visit, _ he told me. But by the time I reached that age and I was off on fifteen or twenty surveys a year, I forgot. I never went to Deya. And now there’s nothing there. I can never thank him for the desk I spent half my childhood sitting at. In all likelihood, there’s not a single family member of his left.”

Link’s eyes fell from her face and he looked out the window as well. It revealed Hyrule Field, shimmering with its morning dew. It was still largely empty, but homes sprouted up here and there, reclaiming what had been lost for so long. 

“I see parts of chimneys, or half-buried shields. I see fences in the middle of nowhere. Were there houses there? Who built them? Who died and can only be remembered in the abstract memory of a fence they left behind? Who died and left  _ nothing? _ ” Zelda’s voice turned momentarily brittle, and she took a moment to steel herself. “Link, I feel like I’ve lost touch with my people. I want to visit them, I need them to know I feel the weight of their loss too. I want to collect their stories. I want to collect their stories, their folklore, their traditions, anything they want to give me. And I want to bind it into a book, so that… so that next time Ganon comes for us, we aren’t truly lost forever.”

Link closed his eyes. He thought of everything his family might have told him if they were alive now. He thought of his neighbors on the Plateau, what their families might have told  _ their  _ children.  _ Lost to time.  _

He leaned over the map Zelda had presented him with. “May I?” He asked, gesturing to the ink and quill at her desk. 

She looked back at him. “Go ahead.”

Link wet the quill and redirected part of the path to cut over the top of Piper Ridge in southern Tabantha. “You don’t need to follow the road around here, the climb isn’t steep. I remember this from visiting Kaysa.”

“Kaysa?”

“The Great Fairy. Her fountain is on the other side of the Ridge. This will cut a few hours off the hike. You also…” he trailed off, retracing another path, “Yeah, you also don’t want to go on the north side of the Korok Forest. The weather is unpredictable and the land is rough. If you go to the south side, you’ll reach the Military Training Camp here,” he circled the appropriate location, “Resupplying there will be necessary after getting out of Hebra.”

Zelda stepped closer and examined his work wordlessly. 

Link figured that if she wasn’t telling him to shut up, it was safe to continue. “You also don’t need to follow the same path out of the Zora Domain that you took to get in there. Cutting across the dam and going towards Lanayru Bay will get you to Kakariko in half the time. From there, though, everything else you planned looks… solid. We might have to make minor adjustments along the way, but this looks very well done.”

Zelda pursed her lips. “ _ We? _ ”

“Well,” Link said slowly, “You can’t go alone.”

She put her hands on her hips. “Obviously, but that doesn’t mean  _ you  _ have to come with me. I was merely requesting your expert knowledge of the land. This is a several weeks-long journey, Link.”

“Yeah, it is,” Link shrugged, “And I was out there for… three, three and a half years? I can handle a few weeks.”

“I meant that I was going to take other knights with me.”

Link was struck by the casual tone of her voice. He faltered for a moment and then said, “But I’m  _ your  _ knight.”

Immediately, he wished that he could retrieve the words and tuck them back inside him. He didn’t like putting his feelings on display, especially to someone who had been less than welcoming towards them. He steeled himself and swallowed her words down like poison. 

Zelda faltered for a moment, then said, “Link--”

Quickly, he added, “I mean, It’s your choice. There are plenty of capable knights who can get the job done. Let me know if you need my-- my  _ expertise _ , or whatever, before you leave.” He backed away from the table and moved in the direction of the door, embarrassed by his misstep. 

Zelda’s face softened. “I didn’t think that you’d want to come. I thought you’d had enough of it. I was trying to do you a favor,” she spoke gently, so unlike her usual harshness that Link had grown accustomed to, “You  _ are  _ my knight. And if it’s your will to join me, then I won’t stop you. I was not belittling your status, but the journey ahead is long and arduous.”

“I know it is,” Link said, “Honestly, it’ll be tougher on you than anyone else.”

She sighed and straightened up some of the books on her desk that had been used for reference. “Yes, that is true. I’ve planned several places for resting with this in mind. I promise not to slow you down.”

Link hesitated, then asked, “Do  _ you  _ want me to come with you?”

Zelda considered this. She then replied evenly, “I do believe that attempting to take any other knight with me would prove to be a mistake.”

Link nodded. It wasn’t much, but he would take it. 

“And-- thank you. This is incredibly important to me.”

They looked at each other for a long moment. Words flooded both of their mouths, but remained unspoken. 

The following days were spent in preparation. Much of the land would be inhospitable to horses, therefore much of the trek would take place largely on foot. Zelda was keen to walk as much as possible. “It’s about  _ humility _ ,” She had explained to Link, “I do believe that hardship is part of this journey.” Link was unbothered by this. He was used to the rough terrain, and he thought that he might honestly miss it a little.

He put his foot down on a few changes to the route, however, including the removal of a planned venture into deep Eldin. “I know you think it won’t be that hot,” he insisted, “But whatever you’re expecting is ten times worse. I’m not doing that again.” Zelda reluctantly agreed, and it was subsequently struck from their map. They would visit Eldin, but stay near the foothills.

The chefs gave them salted meat, the armory offered them a selection of light weaponry just in case, the domestic staff aided them in packing. Letters were sent to the various destinations, alerting them of Link and Zelda’s approximate arrival. Royal advisors frowned at the thought of them going alone, but a firm reminder from Zelda that she was  _ Queen _ made them quiet once more. 

After nearly two weeks, preparations were finished. Link and Zelda walked up the stairs to their bedrooms after supper. Tomorrow morning, they would rise with the sun and begin their trip. Link was nervous to spend so much time alone with her royal moodiness, but he was pleased to reunite with the wilderness. Staying at the Castle was wonderful, but at some point, he had begun feeling like a caged bird. The look in Zelda’s eye made it clear that she felt similarly. 

They reached her bedroom first, and she opened the door before turning to look back at Link. She paused, then told him, “This is your last chance. Are you certain you’re ready for tomorrow? It’s not too late to change your mind.”

Link thought of how absurd of an offer that truly was. As though he had not been born to be her right-hand man, as though he would not follow her from coast to coast and back again if that’s what she asked. He was nearly hurt that she would question his loyalty, but instead, he grinned, “You caught me. I planned to parachute out of my window and disappear forever so I don’t have to do this.”

Zelda rolled her eyes, “Goodnight, Link.”

“Goodnight, Zelda,” he told her, and they went their separate ways. 


	2. The Breach of Demise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Link and Zelda encounter some Sheikah individuals on their way out of Central Hyrule. They learn a little bit about Sheikah religion and cultural practices.

Link and Zelda met first thing in the morning at the gates to Hyrule Castle. Zelda had announced her departure to the Castle staff earlier over last weekend’s feast, in which all the Castle staff was in attendance. She had appointed two of her most trusted royal advisors, Dalin and Beyu, to take the authority in her absence.

Dalin, an older Goron man with a well manicured beard and a stern disposition, secured the climbing rope that had fallen off of the side of Zelda’s hefty backpack. Beyu, a Gerudo woman with a shaved and scarred head, towered over Link with a look that made her disapproval clear. Much of the staff had tentatively expressed concern for Zelda’s safety on this trip, much to Link’s chagrin.  _ I’ve been protecting her longer than any of you _ , he thought, but bit his tongue. 

Dalin clapped Zelda lightly on the back once his work was finished. “There you go, your highness. Ready to rumble.”

“Thank you,” Zelda turned back around and gave both advisors her best diplomatic smile.

Beyu asked, “Would you like for us to walk you to the stable now, Queen Zelda?” 

They had decided that the initial stretch of the journey would be on horseback. This annoyed Zelda, but the stable near the Tabantha Great Bridge had requested some materials needed for repairs. It would take the strength of two horses to transport what was needed, and since it was already on the path, Link volunteered to deliver it on the way. They would leave the horses there and continue on foot. The Hyrule Field Stable, a new addition to the slowly growing Castle Town, agreed previously to supply them.

Zelda shook her head at Beyu and said proudly, “No, that’s alright. Link and I’s journey begins here.”

Beyu tilted her chin up just slightly in knee-jerk defiance, but nodded after a moment. “Well then, I wish you both safe travels. Write back when you’re able to, yes?”

“Yeah, we’ll be worried sick if we don’t hear at all from you,” Dalin added. 

“ _ Especially  _ after you leave Hebra.”

Zelda smiled genuinely, a rarity, and said, “You’re both so overprotective. However, yes, I will most certainly write to you as often as I can.”

It would have been a moment for a hug had Zelda not been crowned queen. Yet, despite their status as near-royalty, advisors were not permitted to do so out in public like this. In unison, Dalin and Beyu knelt before Link and Zelda. Zelda bit her lip and looked out towards the stable.  _ Queenhood,  _ Link thought,  _ must be lonely.  _

Stablehands assured the duo that the horses they were borrowing were excellently suited for the job. The owner of the stable, Herlu, was a no-nonsense fellow with a stony face to match. He supervised as the helpers loaded the horses, and watched Link and Zelda deftly mount them. 

“These gals are Rakut and Enero,” he told them, pointing at each respectively, “Now, Sir Link, I just wanna warn you that Rakut doesn’t often take kindly to too much pressure for speed, but she’s got endurance that’ll blow ‘ya away. Your highness, Enero’s got a bit of personality. But if she gives you too much trouble, have her stop dead in her tracks for a minute and she’ll realize she’s being naughty.” 

Link and Zelda both nodded. Zelda said, “Thank you again for letting us borrow them, Mister Herlu.”

Herlu waved them off, “It’s my pleasure. I know you’ll take good care of ‘em.” He smiled fondly at the horses, which Link thought might’ve been the first smile he’d ever seen from him. 

Zelda reached forward to stroke Enero’s soft, white mane, “We will. I’ll see to it that they are returned to you as quickly as possible. And, truly, thank you again for your generosity.”

They followed the main Castle Town road, winding through homesteads and meager family farms. It warmed Link’s heart to see Hyrule Field inching towards what it used to be. Children played in the road and chased after the horses, shouting hello to their Queen. Their parents looked on, embarrassed at their children’s lack of manners, and called out in apology from their porches. Zelda only smiled and waved to them, calling back that she knew kids would be kids. Morning passed by quicker than anticipated. Zelda took interest in a group of young women, just slightly older than her, weaving and singing together. They stopped once they realized they were being observed, and knelt in greeting. 

Link tried not to be annoyed. He knew that the whole point of this trip was for Zelda to reconnect to her people, but Zelda was enamored by everything and everyone. More than once, he felt the urge to point out that they were on a schedule. However, he knew the wrath he’d receive if he disrespected her in front of her citizens. Instead, he stood back stoically, as he had been trained, and kept his eyes moving while Zelda convened with her citizens. 

They reached Mount Gustaf just before noon. West Castle Town was sparsely populated, so Zelda declined to venture over there on the way. They stopped under a tree and allowed Rakut and Enero a few minutes to rest while Link looked over their map. 

“So, it looks like we’ve plotted to cross Regencia here and cut through the plains. But I think we should cross  _ here  _ instead,” Link marked it on the map and leaned over to show Zelda, who sat beside him in the grass, “and cross through the Breach. Thoughts?”

Zelda finished chewing a bite of an apple she had picked along the way while she studied the map. “Why?”

“The terrain would be easier on the horses, in my opinion. It’ll only add maybe… an hour or so. Zalta Wa Shrine is on the way as well, and I’d like to stop there.”

Zelda thought for a moment, then nodded. “I’m fine with that. Though, why are you interested in Zalta Wa?”

“I haven’t visited a shrine since the end of the Calamity,” Link shrugged, “Y’know, when I was growing up on the Plateau, there was a Sheikah family that lived nearby. I used to run around with-- um,” Link chewed his lip for a second, struggling to remember a name. When it didn’t come, he cleared his throat and continued, “Yeah, so, I used to hang out at their house a lot. They taught me Sheikah prayers and practices. It was nice. I think I’ve always had a soft spot for it.”

“You never told me that.”

“Yeah, I dunno. My family, and most others there, were orthodox Hylians. Maybe some more than others, but we were pretty standard, taught to pray to Din, Farore, Nayru-- the works.”

“My family wasn’t quite the same,” Zelda commented, “Royalty prays only to Hylia.”

Link nodded. Praying to Hylia was considered blasphemous for the common Hyrulean, especially in Hylian circles. Her Grace was not meant to hear the commoner’s troubles. She could only be effectively called upon by those she selected herself, or those selected by the royal family of Hyrule, as they were her descendants. They had to be great, timeless heroes-- such as Link. Sometimes, being permitted to pray to the White Goddess herself was more of a burden than a gift. 

“When I pray, I find myself doing what that Sheikah family taught me. It just feels right to me. Maybe it’s something to do with worshipping all those monks when I unlocked the shrines,” Link sighed, remembering how tiresome that was, “But, anyway, I just feel drawn to it.”

“There aren’t many Sheikah anymore. I’m sure they’d be happy to accept a convert.”

“I don’t think I want to  _ convert _ , I just want to… I’m not sure,” Link leaned back against the trunk of the tree, “You ever noticed that no one really prays much anymore? Aside from the Sheikah, I mean.”

Zelda considered that. “I think people spent a hundred years thinking that there was no one left to pray to.”

Link hummed in agreement. “I can’t imagine that.”

“I still pray,” Zelda admitted, “Every morning and night.”

Link looked over at her. “Yeah, me too.”

Zelda returned his gaze for a moment. Time grew thick between them, holding in the weight of this brief moment of common ground. They were some of the last Hylians keeping the traditions of their time intact, and they knew it. But Zelda pursed her lips and glanced away. “It’s nearly noon, Link. We should be on our way if we want to make it to Zalta Wa at a reasonable hour.”

Link looked away as well, mourning the loss of that connection, however fleeting. “Yes, your highness.”

Rakut and Enero got them to the Breach of Demise by mid-afternoon. Sunlight poured in overhead between the rock formations. Dutifully, Link remained a few paces behind Zelda, always watchful of their surroundings. Outside of Castle Town, Center Hyrule was rather bare. A few homesteads in the distance here, a couple traveling merchants spotted from afar there. It would take centuries before Hyrule got anywhere near its pre-Calamity population. Swaths of land, far as the eye could see, had many years of waiting ahead of them until someone called them home once more. Link remembered when the first historians came to the castle, keen to write their own literature surrounding the great tragedy that befell their ancestors. He remembered the sinking feeling when he read that it was estimated only three to five percent of Hyrule lived past the first year of the Calamity. If they had learned anything this early on in their expedition, it was that Hyrule felt awfully lonesome. 

But as they traversed the Breach, Link spotted the telltale blue glow of the Zalta Wa shrine. It illuminated the surrounding dull rock, as well as what appeared to be two Sheikah individuals standing nearby. The duo turned upon hearing the sound of horses approaching, and once they had spotted the golden saddle of the Queen, the elder one nudged the other urgently into kneeling. 

Once in earshot, Zelda greeted them, “Hello.”

“Your majesty,” The elder Sheikah said. Link could now see that it was an older man and a younger boy, they had a crate with them, but a hand towel thrown over the top obscured it’s contents. Suspicious, Link urged Rakut a little closer but remained silent. 

“You may be at ease,” Zelda assured them, and paused while they stood up. Then she said, “It’s a pleasure to meet you. What are your names?”

“I am Grynn, this is my son Toam. We’ve been restoring this shrine in our spare time.”

Zelda was taken aback, “Oh, that’s… wonderful, but we have restoration teams assigned all throughout Hyrule already. It’s a pity we haven’t reached the Breach yet, but we will in due time. You do not have to worry about this.”

Grynn shook his head, the weathered lines on his face becoming clearer as his brow furrowed. “Thank you, Queen Zelda, but it’s a-- a rite of passage, of sorts, for Toam. And myself too, I suppose. We live near Hyrule Ridge and have made it our duty as the only Sheikah family around to take care of the shrines in the area. They’re sacred to us, your highness. I hope you can understand.”

Link glanced over to Zelda and her set jaw. He knew where this was going, and for all her diplomatic skill, she still lacked personal understanding. But Link had spent years living amongst the people of Hyrule and learning how their values differed from one civilization to the next. Shrines had become of the utmost importance for the Sheikah, allowing them to get in touch with their own ancient roots. The shrines could no longer be entered, but their small cave-like nature allowed for the presence of flowers, small figurines, and other offerings to be shielded from the elements. Zalta Wa was rather barren in comparison, but that was likely due to the lack of Sheikah who had taken up permanent residence in the area. The ones in and around the Castle were always overflowing with gifts to the patron monks and the deities they served.

Link sensed Zelda’s frustration. To avoid certain catastrophe, he spoke up, knowing it was out of turn. “Grynn, the shrine looks very well taken care of,” Link assured him, ignoring the sharp turn of Zelda’s head in his direction, “We won’t interfere with your sacred Sheikah rituals. We recognize the personal importance of what you’re doing.”

Grynn, who did not appear to realize how close the queen had come to an outburst, nodded in thanks. “When these Shrines were first erected, it was the duty of the Sheikah to maintain them for the monks who lived within. Toam and I want to see that custom… reborn, perhaps, within our culture.”

Zelda’s tight expression loosened. She had realized the error of her ways, and that she could not possibly understand the significance of this practice because she was not Sheikah. She smiled, just slightly, and said, “Sir Link is correct. This should be left in your community’s capable hands. I thank you both for your service here.”

Toam, who appeared just a few years shy of Link and Zelda’s age, flushed upon receiving the compliment. He and his father rushed to bow, then he asked, “Queen Zelda-- er, and Sir Link-- may I ask why you’re here? Is all well?”

Grynn added, “Yes, we haven’t heard of you coming this way in a long while.”

_ Of course _ , Link thought,  _ why hadn’t we thought of that. _ Not everyone would have heard of Zelda’s intent to write her book by now, considering how many families were often so isolated on their land, far from towns or trade routes. People who lived independently would go weeks without a passerby coming through, nevermind one with any news. 

“Oh! Yes, everything is perfectly well. I’m out on royal relations business.”

“I see,” Grynn relaxed, “If it’s not an intrusion, where are you off to? There’s not much in this region, so I assume you must only be passing through.”

“We are passing through, indeed,” Zelda confirmed, “We are on our way to Rito Village. I’m collecting stories and other cultural information. I hope to write a book about the people of Hyrule, or some of them at least.”

Toam asked, “Are you only going to see the Ritos?”

“Goodness, no. Sir Link and I are traveling all through Hyrule. Rito Village is merely our first planned stop.” 

Toam’s eyebrows shot upwards. “Wow, that’s a  _ long  _ journey.”

“It will be, yes, but it will most certainly be worth it. Link wanted to visit the shrine of Zalta Wa on the way, but we had no idea we might run into its caretakers.”

Grynn straightened up with a friendly smile, “Well, here, allow me to show you the work we’ve done.”

Link exchanged a look with Zelda, confirming that she was fine with this. She nodded at him. Link leapt off of Rakut and tied her reins to a nearby post, then aided Zelda in doing the same with Enero. 

Grynn and Toam showed off the shrine with great pride. The contents of the crate that Link had found so suspicious were nothing but cleaning supplies and a few canteens worth of water. They’re been delicately scraping centuries of dirt and rust from the porous stone, polishing it as they went. Upon closer inspection, the detail was truly immaculate. 

“This is incredible,” Link said, resting his palm over the slate podium that he had first encountered years ago. “This must be what it looked like back in the Sheikah’s prime.”

Grynn winked, “We hope our prime is still ahead of us yet, Sir Link.”

Link considered that for a moment, and a warm smile graced his face.

Zelda reached into a pocket on Enero’s saddle and retrieved her field notes journal. “Grynn, Toam-- I would quite like to ask you some questions to supplement my research. Is that alright with you?”

Grynn and Toam looked at each other and shrugged nearly in unison, their relation strikingly obvious then. Toam said, “Ask away, your highness.”

They situated themselves on the outer deck of the shrine, cooling on the stone. Link stood, however. He idly patrolled the area, hand resting on the dagger at his hip, never once forgetting that his most important job on this expedition was to ensure Zelda’s safety. 

“Right,” Zelda dipped her quill into the ink and began, “Tell me why shrine upkeep is important to the Sheikah.”

Link paused for a moment, fearful that Zelda’s controlling nature over the Hyrule restoration project was coming out again. However, she leaned forward towards the Sheikah men and appeared thoroughly ready to learn. 

If something was off, Grynn yet again did not notice. “Maybe it’s different for every Sheikah, but I know that having a real place to pray-- somewhere physical that you can bond with-- is important to me. My family was nomadic in a time where it was  _ not  _ easy to be nomadic,” he sighed, “I was born some sixty years after the Calamity started. Born in a merchant family. We did a lot of going from here to there and back again, just making a living, you know. It’s fun, you see some amazing things, but there’s nothing like calling somewhere home. We Sheikah haven’t had a real home for a long time. Our people have a home, sure, Kakariko. But when we lost our shrines, Queen Zelda, that part of our faith was gone as well.”

Grynn paused, allowing for Zelda to finish scrawling her notes. When she looked up and gestured for him to continue, he did. “Every faith is different. Some faiths only need to live here to be complete,” he pointed to his heart, “But that is not the Sheikah way. I felt  _ my  _ faith was incomplete. I felt that I needed a shrine to worship. Many of us feel the same. The return of our shrines offers us a place to bind our religion to the physical world, as our ancestors intended. We can no longer speak to the monks they were named after, but we can worship their memories. Toam and I worship by cleaning these old girls up,” he chuckled and touched the stone fondly. 

“It’s a religious rite,” Zelda stated.

“It’s a religious rite,” Grynn confirmed, “And in my opinion, it should be done by the Sheikah. I’m sure you’ve got talented craftsmen working for you, your highness, and I don’t mean to ignore that. It’s just…” he chewed his lip, searching for the words, “It’s home. It’s about making a home for us.”

Zelda finished up after a few more questions. Grynn and Toam seemed more than happy to share the intricacies of Sheikah culture with her. Link was endeared by her curiosity, fond of how much it reminded him of how she was pre-Calamity. But as the afternoon began to wane, Link gently reminded her that they should be on their way. 

“Thank you, your highness, for allowing us to share our story. It’s a noble act, what you’re doing,” Grynn commented as Link and Zelda mounted their respective horses.

Zelda smiled and steadied Enero, “It would be impossible without people like you. Toam, Grynn-- thank  _ you  _ for teaching me the ways of your people. I do hope one day you read this book.”

Link added, “Feel free to send hate mail if she gets the details wrong.”

Zelda glared at him, but the men laughed. Toam assured her, “It’ll be excellent, your highness. We look forward to it, and we hope that it helps others understand us as well.”

Link and Zelda were both startled by that. It was true, though. This work could shape the reputation of certain groups in Hyrule, and the Sheikah already stood on shaky foundation with the separatist Yiga Clan causing trouble. It was clear how much care a book like this required.

Zelda lifted her chin, shining before them as their queen now, and less so their new friend. “I wish you both safe travels home this evening.”

Grynn and Toam felt her shed her previous breeziness, and knelt before her as expected. Grynn said, “It’s been a pleasure. I wish you safe travels as well, Queen Zelda and Sir Link.”


	3. Tanagar Canyon & The Great Fairy Fountain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The duo visits one of Link's old friends in Tabantha.

By dusk, they had reached the Tabantha Bridge Stable at Tanagar Canyon. It was being managed by Khere, a studious Zora, and her bouncy Gerudo wife, Dahzeen. They had converted the previously cramped stable into something more reminiscent of a hostel. Link and Zelda had been offered the two biggest rooms for the night. The stablehands retrieved the supplies they had brought, and Dahzeen extended her thanks enthusiastically while showing them to their bedrooms. 

“I used to cross that bridge  _ all  _ the time growing up, because my adoptive parents were Rito but I still had some family in the Gerudo Village, right? My parents-- Hylia love ‘em, really-- thought it was so important for me to grow up around other Gerudo gals,” she said, flinging two elegantly bejeweled hands around as she spoke, bangles clinking musically together. She walked slowly up the stairs ahead of Link and Zelda, blissfully unaware of how exhausted they were. “Anyway, it was  _ such  _ a hassle! Having to go all the way around the highlands-- oh, the Gerudo Highlands, I mean. Ah, well, who am I to explain Hyrulean terrain to our hero, ha!”

Link smiled tiredly at her. 

“Anyway! Gosh, where was I… oh! Yes, so, I actually passed over that bridge a lot growing up, and it was always so rickety. I’m not one for heights, after all, and Tanagar Canyon has quite the drop, doesn’t she?” Dahzeen laughed airily, “Can’t blame Khere for wanting to fix it up, especially now that we’ve got so many people passing through our stable and crossing it. Imagine if that thing broke! Talk about bad press. Oh, here’s your room, Sir Link! And Queen Zelda, you’re in this one right here.” 

It wasn’t so different from being back home at the Castle, always just down the hall from one another. Link peeked into the open door. It was modest, sure, but he’d slept in much worse places. 

“It’s not quite royalty standards, I’ll admit,” Dahzeen wrung her hands a little, “If we had known sooner, we would’ve done more work getting them ready for you.”

Zelda held up her hand, swiftly ending Dahzeen’s rambling, “These are excellent lodgings. We can’t thank you enough.”

Dahzeen giggled and tucked her hair behind her ears, “Well, you’re very welcome, your highness.”

“If you don’t mind,” Zelda shifted the bag she carried over to her other shoulder, “Link and I have had a strenuous day, and it would be best for us to retire.”

“O-of course! Don’t let me keep you!” Dahzeen bowed in the customary Gerudo fashion, with feet planted a shoulders-width apart and hands clasped behind her back. “We start breakfast at about eight o’clock in the morning, right downstairs.”

“Wonderful, thank you,” Zelda flashed her best royal smile, and Dahzeen excused herself with a quiet  _ goodnight _ .

Once she had retreated downstairs once more, Link and Zelda idled in the hallway outside of their bedroom. Link chuckled, “She’s bubbly, huh?”

“Quite,” Zelda said curtly, the fatigue clear on her face once they were alone, “I’m headed to bed. Sleep well, Link.”   
Link nodded once, and turned into his own bedroom. The door creaked shut behind him and he sighed. He kicked off his shoes, missing the beaten leather ones that he wore during the Calamity. They were barely shoes anymore by the time Ganon was defeated, but they were a hell of a lot more comfortable than these fancy ones. He shed his gear and piled it on top of the dresser. There was no sense in getting things too comfy here-- they’d be gone with the dawn.

He eased down onto the bed and found it to be surprisingly soft for what stables usually had to offer. He’d slept in shitty conditions, that’s for sure-- between fireside in the harsh Hebra snowfields to nodding off half-soaked in the rare cool springs of Eldin. He got used to sleeping just about anywhere he could get horizontal. 

Link became quickly aware of how tired he actually was, the way exhaustion wrapped around his muscles and squeezed. He pressed his face into the Rito down pillow. 

He was pleased that Zelda had remained so amicable thus far. Perhaps she had realized the trip would go a whole lot smoother if she stowed her petty, short-fused temper. He could only wish that her behavior continued like that as he began to doze. 

Well, not all wishes come true. 

Zelda was sporting a scowl and two half-lidded eyes ringed in sleepless purple when Link saw her first thing in the morning. Her  _ good morning  _ had come in the form of a brief upward glance as he approached her open bedroom door. 

Link observed her rather aggressive packing, then hazarded a “Hey,” through a yawn.

Zelda scoffed, “Slept well, did you?”

He shrugged, “I mean, yeah.”

Zelda latched the last of her cases closed and blew a stray lock of hair out of her face. “Well, I barely got any rest.”

Link held back a grin, “Not used to stable accommodations?”

“I’m  _ grateful,  _ of course I am, I’m just--” 

“A little high and mighty from sleeping in the Castle?”

Zelda glared fiercely and shot back, “You seem to have forgotten the  _ century  _ I spent in quite a bit of discomfort. I do not appreciate being treated as though I am anything near  _ high and mighty _ .” 

“I was joking, highness.”

Zelda clenched her jaw, “I’m unamused. Retrieve Dahzeen or Khere and tell them we’re leaving, now.”

Link wasn’t sure if it was her tone of voice, or the way she spat the order without looking up from the luggage she was securing, but he felt needled. She spoke to him as though he was nothing more to her than an annoyance to get rid of. She wouldn’t dare speak to the lowliest servant in such a way. He felt the ravine between them gape further open, hollow as his chest. 

She did not apologize nor acknowledge it. 

Link backed out of the doorway, tongue bitten. 

They thanked Khere and Dahzeen for their hospitality, they thanked the stablehands for taking care of Rakut and Enero, and with his face turned to the rising sun, Link thanked Hylia. It was strange to pray outside his usual chapel and without any iconography. It felt inadequate somehow. He remembered Grynn’s sentiment and hummed thoughtfully to himself. That Sheikah family he’d grown up with really had left their mark on him.

The bridge was just as treacherous as Link remembered. Swaths had been cut away over the decades, replaced with discolored, rickety planks and strung together with mismatched rope. It was stable enough, swaying just slightly from the morning wind rushing through Tanagar Canyon, but it’s not as though they had another option. 

Link and Zelda stood at the base of it with matching faces of scrutiny. 

“Well,” Zelda sighed, “I can see why they want to replace it so badly.”

“Mhm,” Link agreed. 

They walked slowly, bracing themselves on the railing. Zelda’s footsteps stuttered with every shift and shake of the frail bridge. Link couldn’t help but roll his eyes. 

“Do you want me to lead?” He offered tersely, still feeling the sting of their interaction earlier in the morning. 

“No,” Zelda snapped, “I can do it. I just want to go slow.”

“Well,” Link clicked his tongue, “At this rate, we might reach Rito Village by next fall.”

Zelda turned on her heel (which would’ve been more intimidating if she wasn’t unsteady on her feet and gripping the railing for dear life). “I’m not sure why you have forgotten that I’m your queen since leaving the Castle, but I’ll allow no more of this.”

Link opened his mouth to defend himself, but a swift wind sent the bridge shaking violently. Link reached forward and took a hold of Zelda’s bicep, lowering them both to a kneel so they did not fall. He looked over her shoulder just in time to catch sight of glittering red and white scales soaring just beneath the bridge. 

Zelda trembled. Her eyes squeezed shut, all traces of wrath erased from her face and replaced by fear. Link pursed his lips. Compassion and frustration warred in him as they always did when he looked at Zelda.

“Zel, look,” He urged her, “It’s Dinraal.”

Slowly, she peeked her eyes open and looked below. Dinraal’s massive, benevolent form glided easily through the morning fog, dispersing it in waves, and sent wafts of wind in every direction. It was a stunning sight. Link never tired of seeing the spirits, glowing and ancient. It’s long body swerved gracefully, kept aloft by its own magical force. Link felt dwarfed by his own adoration for the incomprehensible but beautiful parts of this land. Neither Link nor Zelda spoke as they watched Dinraal coast by in silence, save for the whistling of the wind. 

Once the spirit had passed and the bridge ceased its shuddering, Zelda jerked her arm out of Link’s grip. He’d forgotten he’d been grabbing her at all with how naturally his protective training had leapt forth. She stood and smoothed her hair out of her face. She did not continue her rant, but pointedly began to cross the bridge at a quicker pace than she had been. Link sighed and rose to his feet and followed close behind. 

They both heaved a sigh of relief when they were off the bridge and onto solid ground. The telltale yellowish packed dirt and rock of Tabantha was welcomed underfoot as they made a sharp right and headed up the path of least resistance over Piper Ridge. 

The great thing about climbing was that conversation was near impossible, so Link was pleased to not be subjected to Zelda’s attitude. He had instructed her to follow close behind and pay attention to his handwork and footholds. He would often take this path, from the Tabantha Great Bridge to Kaysa’s fountain. He remembered the way there well, but Zelda had considerably less knowledge in the art of a free climb. It thankfully wasn't a sheer rock face by any means. She didn’t appear to be struggling when Link glanced down to check on her, so they continued wordlessly. 

Link took this time to consider what the next few weeks would be like. Zelda’s bad moods were often insufferable even when he had his own bedroom to escape to, but being the sole target of her rage while she practiced careful diplomacy around others wasn’t going to be fun. He weighed the pros and cons of jabbing back at her. Her anger burned hot, sure, but it couldn’t burn forever. She wouldn’t demote him, would she? 

_ Would she?  _

Link hung off a rock for a moment, stretching out the cramped fingers of his other hand. He looked down below at Zelda.

She stared up at him and flatly said, “You know, at this pace, we might reach Rito Village by next fall.”

Link returned to his climb, rolling his eyes once she could no longer see his face. 

The Great Fairy Fountain exploded out of the dull Tabanthan rock formations in a whirlwind of unnaturally radiant color. It was quiet here, a few fluttering fairies circling nearby and mighty thistles so abundant that they could put the Castle’s own monumental farm to shame. Link and Zelda carefully stepped around them. The land around a Great Fairy’s home was always incredibly fertile and teeming with vitality.

Sensing their arrival, Kaysa burst forth from beneath the opaque waters. Link was used to this sort of grand entrance, but Zelda jumped back, startled by the display. She was just as colossal as Link remembered, with a musical laugh and glistening dark skin. She smoothed her bright pink hair away from her face and leaned over the two of them excitedly. 

“Well,  _ there _ you are, little hero!” She exclaimed, “It’s been forever since I last saw you! How dare you keep a girl waiting!”

Link chuckled, “My apologies. It’s great to see you, Kaysa.”

“It’s  _ great  _ to see you as well,” She winked, then turned her attention to Zelda, “And you, my dear, must be the little silent princess, all grown up.”

Zelda nodded. “Yes, that would be me.”

“Spectacular!” Kaysa smiled, “What can I do for my favorite king and queen?”

Link and Zelda glanced at each other, stammering for a moment. Link cleared his throat, “I-- I’m not the king.”

Kaysa raised an elegant eyebrow, “Oh?”

“He remains my knight, as he was before the Calamity,” Zelda explained, shifting uncomfortably, “I, however, have been crowned Queen.”

“Well,” Kaysa said, looking surprised, “That’s not quite how I expected things to go, but life is just full of surprises! And you both still have plenty of growing up to do, yes.”

Link wasn’t quite sure what to make of that comment. He decided to ignore it, and said, “Kaysa, we have something to ask of you.”

“Well, you wouldn’t be here otherwise, would you? What do you need?”

Zelda retrieved her field notes journal from her pack. Kaysa leaned forward, intrigued, resting her gargantuan form over the edge of the pool. Zelda flipped to a new page and said, “I’m collecting stories from all around Hyrule. It’s a project meant to preserve the culture of this era, given we lost so much when Ganon ravaged the castle. Link and I are traveling the continent together and taking down whatever people have to offer us.”

“When we first met,” Link said, “you explained to me how you lost so much of your power because people stopped visiting. I think that bringing attention to you and your sisters in this book will, uh--”

“Renew interest?” Kaysa clasped her hands together, “Oh, Link, you never cease to amaze! Yes, yes, I’d be happy to share!”

Zelda laughed and took out her pen, “We’re very grateful, Kaysa.”

“It’s nothing,” She waved them off, “Have you ever met a Great Fairy who didn’t love a chat?”

Link and Zelda sat on the petals before her as Kaysa regaled them with tale after tale of her memories granting boons to great, nameless heroes (only half-believed by her audience, as they snickered and shot glances at each other while Kaysa was distracted by the sound of her own voice). She spoke not only of what she’d seen here, but of what she had heard from elsewhere. She spoke of her distant sisters, of worlds covered in water and bright-eyed boys who toyed with time. Pirates and moons and wolves and the beasts that plagued them all. Zelda struggled to keep up with her winding narratives, hand flying across the page, smearing ink. By the end, she wasn’t even trying to dictate. She simply stared up at the Great Fairy with eyes big as saucers. When she ran out of stories to tell, Kaysa heaved a great sigh and placed her chin in her hands.

“But you, darling,” She said in a voice sweet as honey, “You’re my favorite hero of all. I think you’ve got the grandest story to tell.”

Link shrugged, “Meh. It’s just a lot of camping.”

Kaysa chuckled, “Will you have a chapter in this little book?”

“Not if I can help it,” Link admitted.

“Wasn’t as glitzy as everyone thinks it was, hm?”

Link shook his head. 

“That’s no matter,” Kaysa reassured him, “You’ve still got an awful lot of time to go on new adventures.”

Zelda hummed thoughtfully and looked up to check the sun’s position. Afternoon was already giving way to evening. “Kaysa, we truly thank you for sharing your stories.”

“Going so soon?” Kaysa pouted coyly, “You two should stay here for the night! I’m an  _ excellent  _ host.”

Link was endeared by the familiar flirtatiousness of the Great Fairies. Truthfully, they only played these games to see how much it took to make their visitors squirm. He smiled up at her. “Another time, I promise.”

“Ugh, you always say that…” Kaysa rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her smirk.

“And one of these times,” Link said, rising to his feet, “I’m going to mean it.”

Kaysa laughed airily at that, but was satisfied with the answer. “Thank you two, really, for visiting. It gets lonely on this mountain. Cotera gets all the visitors these days, being right by Kakariko and all.”

“We’ll be stopping there, actually. Would you like us to tell her you said hello?” Zelda offered. 

Kaysa clicked her tongue, “Not really. Cotera’s... a  _ little bit  _ of a bitch behind the scenes, but you didn’t hear that from me.” Zelda gaped at the sentiment, but Link laughed heartily. Pleased, Kaysa shot him a grin and continued, “It’s no matter, we can’t choose our family after all. Where are you headed to from here?”

“Rito Village.” Zelda told her, packing up her journal as well as the scraps left over from the lunch they’d shared here earlier. 

“Excellent, excellent,” Kaysa nodded approvingly, “And from there? Back this direction, I hope?”

“Actually, we plan to pass along the west side of Tanagar.”

“Through Hebra? That’s rough terrain.”

“It is,” Zelda agreed, “But I have an intelligent guide. And I’m quite a bit hardier than I appear.”

“I don’t doubt you for a moment, your highness,” Kaysa smiled warmly, “Here, at least allow me to bestow my blessing!”

She raised her hands up to her face and kissed both pads of her thumbs, imbuing them with her sparkling magic. She aimed them at Link and Zelda respectively, and the golden glitter surrounded them both in a brief flash before dissipating entirely. She dusted her hands off, and said, “It will keep you both safe and warm through Hebra, though it won’t last forever, so don’t delay.”

Link looked down at himself, expecting to see a trace of her gift, but there was nothing. “I thought you could only enchant armor.”

Kaysa laughed cheekily, “I can do many things, hero. But you needed to learn how to persevere on your own if you were ever going to defeat Ganon.”

With everything packed up, Zelda and Link descended off the petals of Kaysa’s flowery home. Zelda thanked Kaysa once more, and assured her, “I can’t thank you enough for sharing. Folklore is especially easy to lose to time. We have to take special care in preserving it, perhaps above all else, in this book.”

“Oh, Queen Zelda. It is so like you to think that was all myth,” Kaysa said, cryptic as all Great Fairies liked to be. “Be safe, you two. Ta!”

She grandly threw two gem-clad arms above her head and retreated into her pool with a wink and a splash. Link and Zelda shared a confused look over her words, but they did not mention it. On the northern horizon, Divine Beast Vah Medoh perched in wait, soaked in the orange light of the fleeting day. Rito Village was calling for them. 


	4. The Road To Rito Village

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Link and Zelda finally arrive at Rito Village.

The path along Nero Hill was shady and cool, lined with homesteads that had crowded around the new Tabantha Tower Trading Post. It was a meager township, but it offered the shelter Link and Zelda sought for the evening. However, Link found himself wary of staying in at the Post itself.  _ Too many suspicious strangers coming and going, too close to Yiga territory, too risky,  _ he thought.

They decided to camp beside the tower that evening, where the soft blue light would dissuade any potential criminals from trying to steal or kill under the cover of darkness. Link started a fire with some wood they had been offered by the people manning the Post, and had pitched the tent with ease.

“Are you  _ sure _ ?” Zelda asked for the third or fourth time. She was referring to Link’s choice of sleeping outside the tent where he could keep a watchful eye. A choice that she had to pick a fight about, as she did with everything, Link thought. 

Link glanced over at her across the flames of the campfire. She peeked out from between the tent’s flaps, looking displeased. He replied, “Yes, I’m sure. You’re acting like I’ve never slept outside before.”

“I just--” She sighed, “It’s not fair to you. There’s enough room for us both in here.”

“ _ Goodnight _ , your highness.” Link said, tossing another piece of wood into the pit. 

Zelda hesitated, then latched the flap closed with finality. 

It wasn’t that much safer this way. Not like Link had insisted to her that it was, repeatedly, to get her to stop irritating him. He simply didn’t  _ want  _ to share a tent with Zelda. Too close for comfort. 

Not too close to  _ her _ , per se, but too close to what they used to be. When they were younger, Link would steal her away from their draining royal responsibilities to escape into the wilderness surrounding the Castle. They would forget all about the impending doom, even if only for a night. They’d set up camp, spear some fish for dinner, maybe indulge in some mead that the kitchen staff always knew they were stealing but were too endeared to tattle. They would drift off in their tent together after hours of talking and quiet giggles over inside jokes, soothed by the crickets and rushing of stream waters.

A safer world. Children. 

They were children, once. 

Link stared blankly into the flames. He pushed those memories from his mind. He would not let the queen hear him cry. 

When the morning came, they followed their planned route along the eastern side of Strock Lake. It was a landmark only due to how unreachable it was, and because Tabantha didn’t have a whole lot else to offer from its dull landscape. It was hospitable to nearly no life due to the pitiful amount of sunlight that rarely graced that deep into the ravine. Link leaned over the edge of their path and gazed downward at it for only a moment before quickly stepping away, perturbed by the abrupt, unforgiving drop. 

He didn’t have a fear of heights. After spending a few years with a paraglider as his main medium of transportation, he was comfortable with the risk. Zelda, however, did not feel the same. 

“Link, you’re  _ kidding _ .”

“Unless you’d like to climb all the way down and all the way back up, no, I’m not kidding.”

Kolami Bridge made the Tabantha Great Bridge look like a walk in the park. Kolami sported no railings and was much,  _ much  _ thinner than the latter, composed of untreated branches strapped together with rope.

Zelda stared at it, wide-eyed, arms wrapped around herself. “Okay,” she said, “Okay, yes, we will climb instead.”

Link blinked. “That wasn’t... a real offer. Zel, we have to cross this bridge. We can’t actually climb down.”

Zelda huffed, “This is all your fault! Why couldn’t we just-- ugh!” She yanked the map out of the side pocket of her bag, ripping it open and scrutinizing it for an alternative. 

“Zelda--”

“ _ Here! _ ” She jammed her finger into the canvas, “Look, we could’ve gone along these western barrens, and-- see? Bareeda Naag Shrine? We could’ve gone that way!”

Link ran his hands over his face. It was barely noon, and he was already exhausted. “That would’ve added a whole half a day onto our trip, not to mention tons more climbing. It’s just one bridge, Zelda.”   
“Tabantha Great Bridge was  _ one bridge _ ,” she spat.

“It’s your kingdom,” Link shrugged, “Tell it to be more flat.”

Link had never seen Zelda’s face spark into such a rage before. He half-expected her to start snarling at him for a moment there before she messily folded the map back up and returned it to her bag’s outer pocket. She grit her teeth and said nothing. Steeling herself, she stepped onto the bridge. 

Surprisingly-- and likely due to the fact that it was much shorter in length-- Kolami Bridge didn’t falter nearly as much as the Tabantha Great Bridge had. Zelda rushed across it, both hands balled up into fists, with Link calmly following close behind. She let out a deep breath when her feet finally landed on solid ground once more. 

With the immediate threat gone, Zelda turned to Link with a slightly more amicable expression and said, “That had better be the last rickety bridge on this trip, or we are turning around and coming back the way we came.”

“If we turn around and go back the way we came,” Link said, “we would have to cross all those rickety bridges again.” 

Zelda clicked her tongue and turned away, continuing on the path. She said, “I think I need a new knight.”

Link snorted.

The path forward was mostly rock with some sparse, dead grass along the way. This was the height of the region’s dry season and it showed. The elevation provided considerably cooler air than what Hyrule Field was experiencing. Nothing would grow here, that was for certain, but the rock formations here were a sight to behold.

One of these many beautiful formations was the tunnel that extended before Link and Zelda shortly after passing Kolami Bridge. The outside was studded in luminous stone, though it was dim in the daylight, rendering the inside mysterious and inviting.

As they entered, Link said, “I got my ass kicked by keese here once.”

“You probably deserved it,” Zelda commented mildly. 

“Yeah, probably.” He nodded. 

When they reached the other side, Zelda gasped. The view was splendid from here, all of Rito Village and the expanse of snowy Hebra unfurled towards the horizon, drenched in sunshine. They did not often see views like this from the valley. They stopped for a moment, taking it all in. 

Zelda leaned against a nearby boulder, staring ahead. Softly, she asked, “Do you think of him often?”

Link glanced at her, then looked up at Divine Beast Vah Medoh. It stood like a watchful sentinel over all of Hyrule, once a formidable foe, but now a graceful guardian. He admitted, “Not as much as he deserves, I don’t think.”

“Hm,” Zelda paused, “He was… such a  _ dick _ .”

Link, surprised at her brutal honesty, couldn’t help the laugh that burst out of him.

“He was! He was a-- he was a strong warrior, but--”

“No, you’re absolutely right,” Link confirmed, “Revali sure was an asshole.”

“Do you think he can hear us now?” Zelda asked around her giggles.

Link grinned and shrugged, “I suppose I’ll find out the next time I try to call him to use his Gale. If I’m ignored… well, there you go.”

Once her laughter subsided, Zelda sighed happily and detached herself from the boulder. “Let’s keep going, I don’t want to arrive too late.”

Link and Zelda followed the path to the Rito Stable. They stopped in the shade outside to share lunch, keen to stay hidden as possible from the people coming and going from the stable. It was no use, however, because a group of young girls passing by eagerly blew their cover by running up and trying to start a conversation with the Queen. Zelda was friendly enough through her weariness, but was more than ready to keep moving by the time Link finished eating. 

“See? It’s not so hard to make these things safe,” Zelda commented as they approached the pillars of rock that led the way to Rito Village, bound together by expertly crafted wooden bridges.

Crossing the first of those many bridges to greet them was Kaneli, the village elder, and Teba. Kaneli waved cheerily as he approached, and even Teba wore an uncharacteristically expressive warm smile. 

Once they were in earshot, Kaneli said, “Sir Link, Queen Zelda-- it’s an honor to have you here.”

Zelda and Link bowed in unison before the two of them. When they rose, Zelda said, “It’s great to be here. I apologize that I haven’t visited in person until now.”

Kaneli waved her off, “It’s no matter, your ambassadors have been excellent company. And we recognize how busy you must be back at the Castle.”

Zelda smiled, “I won’t deny that.”

Teba looked over to Link, “My friend, it’s been far too long.”

“It has been,” Link nodded, extending his hand. The handshake was a little awkward considering the size difference of their palms, but Teba seemed unbothered. 

“Come, allow us to get you settled in.” Kaneli extended a grand wing in the direction of the bridge ahead, and they were off. 

Rito Village had expanded considerably since Link had last visited. Ritos lived entirely communally, considering the whole village their home. But the Ritos were keenly aware that this was not the norm in other Hyrulean cultures, and they offered an alternative accordingly. Link and Zelda would not be staying in the greater village area that clung to the sides of the central spire in Lake Totori, but rather in the guest’s chambers-- a small cottage built along the route to the village. It was modest, constructed out of dark wood likely gathered from the cedars of South Hebra, and surrounded by wildflowers with a swinging bench on the front porch. Link cracked a smile at the sight. His father had built one for him and his mother when he was a newborn to soothe his fitful sleep in his mother’s arms. 

“If you’d like to rest before supper tonight, Queen Zelda,” Kaneli said, “you can make yourselves at home here for now.”

Zelda nodded, “Thank you, I think we will take advantage of that offer.”

“Certainly,” Kaneli nodded, pulling a key out of a side pocket of the satchel he carried on his side. Cheekily, he added, “I trust you know the way from here, Sir Link?”

Link chuckled, glancing behind him at the incredibly linear bridge system that would bring them to the Rito Village, and said, “We’ll do our best not to get lost.” 

Kaneli smiled and handed-- winged?-- him the key to the cottage and bid them farewell. He and Teba headed off in the direction of their village, leaving them outside the cottage. 

Link turned the key in the front door’s lock and was surprised not only by how easily it opened, but how startlingly fresh everything inside looked. Despite the tireless upkeep of the staff, much of the Castle’s functionality was expectedly bogged down by time. After years of creaky and uneven floors, decades-old furniture, and doors that either jammed or opened seemingly of their own free will, Link was pleased by the thought of staying somewhere that wasn’t damn near older than Hylia herself. 

It was nowhere near as extravagant as the royal chambers of Hyrule Castle, but it was remarkably homey. The Ritos had a very simple design style that was reflected here. Small rooms constructed of polished dark wood, colorful quilts no doubt stuffed with Rito down, and-- thankfully-- very few windows.  _ Zelda will appreciate the privacy,  _ Link thought. The stone fireplace would be enough to provide them the light they needed.

Zelda wordlessly bee-lined for one of the two bedrooms with her luggage, likely seeking some of that privacy. Link dropped his bags onto the plush couch in the sitting area which was flanked by two equally comfortable-looking armchairs. There was also a kitchenette, a bathroom ( _ Working plumbing,  _ Link thought incredulously, reminded of the Castle’s own septic system was constantly under some kind of maintenance), and a whole wall populated by bookshelves. Curiously, he pulled a book off one of the shelves.  _ No dust _ . He snorted. He couldn’t fault them for wanting to impress their bookworm of a queen. 

He crossed the room to inspect the kitchenette, finding a table hidden behind a half-wall. The Ritos had left a mighty selection of baked treats for the two of them with a brief note about how excited they were to host their queen. 

Link tilted his head up and whistled in the direction of the bedrooms. “Zel, come here.”

From the other room, she called, “Do I look like a horse to you?”

Link lifted a small baked good off the wooden platter and inspected it. “Do you want an honest answer?”

Zelda came out of her bedroom, unpinning her hair. “Whistle to get my attention one more time and I’ll have you hanged. What is it?”

Around a mouthful of pastry, Link answered, “They left us food.”

She walked over and scrutinized the gift. “Hm. That was kind of them.”

“The, uh--” Link swallowed down his bite before she could berate him, “The chocolate ones are good. Bet you Saki made them.”

“Saki?” Zelda raised an eyebrow.

“Teba’s wife. She bakes,” Link explained, “I must’ve put on ten pounds while I was staying here. She made me a little bundle of cookies the night before I left for Eldin… I wonder if I could snag any recipes from here while we’re here.”

Zelda hesitated. Then she asked, “Um, were you here long? Before?”

“Not really, a few weeks maybe. I don’t like the cold very much.”

“I see.”

“But it’s better down here than how it was up on Vah Medoh, I’ll tell you that much,” Link grimaced, remembering numb fingers and snowflakes on his eyelashes facing down with Windblight Ganon. 

“I can imagine.” Zelda took a pastry for herself off the platter. “Where did you spend the longest?”

It became startlingly clear to Link then how little he discussed his travels with Zelda. He leaned against the kitchen by the sink basin and shrugged. “Depends where I was. I spent a lot of time in Kakariko. Riju was always inviting me back to Gerudo Town.” Link paused. “I always stopped by Zora's Domain when I was east.”

Zelda smirked, “I bet you did.”

He rolled his eyes, “I don’t need to hear it from you too.” 

“I didn’t say a word.”

“Whatever,” Link detached himself from the counter and stuffed the rest of his pastry into his mouth. “I’m taking a nap. Don’t go wandering off for once.”

“No promises,” Zelda answered pleasantly and took an appropriately royal-sized bite of her own baked good. 

As the first traces of sunset began to cross the sky, Zelda and Link emerged from their cottage and made their way towards Rito Village. They were excitedly greeted by the folks who lived there upon their arrival. Link provided many handshakes and hugs to those he recognized from his last visit, assured the children that  _ yes _ , he was very surprised at how big they’d grown, and he thanked Saki for the treats she had left for the two of them. 

“It was supposed to be from all of us,” She explained, “But I seem to be the only one here who can distinguish  _ baking  _ from  _ burning _ .”

Zelda appeared at Link’s side then, seemingly having somehow detached herself from her own giddy crowds. She said, “You’re a very talented cook, Saki. Thank you.”

Saki stammered, “Oh! Th-thank you, Queen Zelda.”

“ _ Link! _ ”

Link leaned around Saki to see a familiar feathered young boy come racing in his direction. He was just a bit taller now, gangly with childhood, and Link smiled widely at him. “Hey, Tulin!”

“Tulin!” Saki scolded him, “Manners!”

Panting, Tulin awkwardly bowed before Link and Zelda. 

Zelda bent down to greet him, “Hello there, it’s very nice to meet you.”

Link offered his fist. Tulin appreciatively bumped his knuckles against it before returning his attention to Zelda. “I’m Tulin!”

“I heard,” She giggled.

“Teba’s my dad! Him and Link saved the Village together!”

“Is that so?”

“Uh huh! It was super cool! I can tell you all about it if you wanna hear!”

Saki gently pulled Tulin away from them and smiled, embarrassed. “Some other time, sweetheart. Why don’t you go find your father, hm?”

“Okay!” Tulin nodded and ran back in the direction he came.

“Sorry about him,” Saki said, smoothing the front of her dress with a nervous chuckle, “He’s… excitable.”   
“He’s adorable. You must be so proud,” Zelda said.

“I am, yes. Children are a handful, but why else would we have fought so hard for a safe future?” Saki shot a soft, thankful smile to Link. He nodded once in acknowledgment.

Once everyone began to disperse, Link and Zelda ascended the main path through the village. Kaneli’s quarters were at the very top, and it was there that he awaited their arrival. The expansion that had taken place over the past few years in Link’s absence was astonishing. Tiny shops, common areas, sleeping chambers and the like sprouted up out of pre-established shelters like a great blossoming tree of community. Ritos hurried by in all directions, laughing and talking and going this way and that. 

“I hope the cottage is to your liking, Queen Zelda,” Kaneli said after greeting them. He had invited them into his quarters and offered them some hot, freshly brewed tea. Link remembered being rather cool towards the tea selection that the village had, but they accepted it politely.

“It is, yes. Thank you again for hosting us.”

“It’s my pleasure,” Kaneli smiled warmly and sat himself at the table across from Link and Zelda. “I think what you’re doing for your people is wonderful, your highness.”

“It’s the least I can do for the home that I love. And it wouldn’t be a home without it’s people, now would it?”

Kaneli hummed thoughtfully. “Queen Zelda, has anyone ever told you the story of why Ritos have the gift of flight?”

“I do not believe so.”

“Ah, well, allow me,” Kaneli said, then paused to sip his tea, “It’s a wonderful story, and I think it goes to show that this trip, your, uh-- your…”

“Idea?” Zelda offered.

“Yes,  _ idea _ , thank you. My mind isn’t quite what it used to be,” Kaneli laughed, “Anywho, it goes to show that your idea-- your sentiment, perhaps-- is nothing new. This is a story we tell the Rito children as they grow to remind them that we are, ah, inextricable from our land. It goes something like this.”

Kaneli smoothed out his braided beard in quiet contemplation for a moment before he began. “Before the Ritos had wings, Lake Totori used to be much higher, see, and our village used to rest right above the water. We were excellent swimmers, see, and could traverse the lake to meet the rest of Hyrule with ease. But there was a cave just beneath the lake. And one day, while all the Ritos were fast asleep, the cave collapsed and all the water poured in.”

“Oh, I-- I’m sorry to interrupt, but would you mind if I wrote this down?” Zelda asked, “I’m collecting folklore as well.”

“Certainly, yes.” Kaneli waited for Zelda to retrieve her journal from her bag, and then continued, “So, when all the Ritos woke up, we were all alone. It was just us on our rock pillar, no way to get down. Scary, hm?”

“I’d bet,” Link said.

“Yes, yes, well, we were stuck! Stuck, and quite lonely. So, one day, the elder Rito pointed up at the birds in the sky. He told his people,  _ I’ve seen the birds in the sky, with their wings, free as can be.  _ The people said,  _ yes, we’ve seen the birds.  _ He said,  _ why don’t we fly?  _ And the Rito people-- out of loneliness, out of fear, but mostly out of love for the people they were separated from-- grew their wings. They soared far over the sunken Lake Totori. And we’ve been flying ever since.”

“That’s incredible,” Zelda commented.

“Yes, it is. It’s not true, of course. But we tell this story to our children for a few reasons. We tell it to them because it reminds them that problems can  _ always  _ be solved. Now, it doesn’t always work out that way, but kids don’t have to know that,” He chuckled, “We tell them this story because we want them to know that  _ distance  _ is just a word, just a-- ah, a concept to be conquered. And we tell them this story because they should know that Hyrule is worth doing scary things for, worth taking leaps of faith for.”

Link grinned, “I might know a thing or two about that.”

Kaneli nodded, “I’m certain you do. Mostly, we tell Rito Children this story because we want them to feel  _ bonded  _ to this place. Bonded to the world. To see that the way they are now is a product of their ancestor’s  _ relationship  _ to the world. Does that make sense?”

Zelda nodded, “It does.”

“Hm, yes. We are the world, Queen Zelda.  _ We  _ are Hyrule, the same way the wheat we grow to keep us fed is Hyrule. The same way the rivers and the rocks and the animals are Hyrule. It’s all connected. And it must be true, because a little Hylian who was never told that story seemed to get the idea all on her own!” Kaneli laughed heartily.

Zelda beamed, “I love Hyrule, Kaneli. And I am glad you are teaching the Rito children the same.”

“Ah, it’s just a story, your majesty,” Kaneli winked, raising his cup of tea to his lips, “But then again, so is your book, isn’t it? Stories… yes, stories are powerful things.”


	5. The Rito Village

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Link and Zelda's bickering reaches a head.

Much to Link and Zelda’s surprise, the Ritos had prepared a feast to commemorate their ruler’s arrival. Once they finished catching up with Kaneli, and Zelda was satisfied with her many pages of Rito folklore, they descended into the rest of the village and found it bursting with celebration.

“Ritos,” Kaneli explained, guiding them through the boisterous crowds, “enjoy a good party once in a while.”

The inn’s restaurant staff provided tables upon tables of food that would’ve fed the entirety of the Royal Guard twice over. Misa, the head chef, walked Link and Zelda through the mix of exotic and traditional foods. Sweet palm fruit wine imported from the faraway oases of the Gerudo desert, perfectly prepared steak from the Hateno cow farms, mini fruit pies that Link remembered binging on during his first visit here (a sight that turned his stomach over when he recalled how sick the overeating had made him). Misa clapped Link on the back and told him it was a pleasure to cook for him again, but he should try to keep it all down this time. They piled their plates high and found a large round table to share with Kaneli, Teba, Saki, as well as other Rito dignitaries. 

Link breezed through the chit-chat. After all, these were old friends of his, and they had much catching up to do. They exchanged stories and jokes and Link laughed with them all, comforted by the familiarity of their friendship.

Zelda was a quiet listener. She had no stories to tell, it seemed, after being kept up in the Castle for a century. She’d taken a few sips of her wine, but it did not seem to interest her much. It was then that she attempted to turn the conversation in a more political direction. 

“Kaneli, I’ve been meaning to ask,” She cut in, “How are your fall construction budgets?”

The table quieted. Kaneli finished chewing and cleared his throat before answering, “Ah, my apologies, your highness. I did not look over them before you arrived.”

Zelda placed her half-full glass down. “It’s quite alright, I just figured we might be able to look into extending the duration-- perhaps the quantity, even-- of our trade deal to bolster your efforts.”

“Well, I’m-- I’m certain that it's something we could look into while you’re here,” offered Mifel, the head of the Rito treasury. 

“Excellent,” Zelda smiled, “The Castle hopes to unveil the first drafts of our trade contracts for next year sometime in next few months, and--”

Link nudged Zelda and chuckled, albeit a bit awkwardly, “Your majesty, we aren’t here on diplomatic business, you know.”

“I-- well, yes, I just…” Zelda flushed and faltered, “Yes. You’re right.”

The Ritos glanced around nervously, unsure of how to proceed from there. Bato, the Tabanthan guide that Link had befriended years prior, ended the awkward silence by clearing his throat and asking, “Did I ever tell you all how I met Link?”

Zelda picked up her glass of wine and leaned back in her seat. Determined to keep up the nonchalant appearances, Link looked over to Bato and shook his head with a laugh. “Oh, not this one.”

Teba said, “I don’t believe you have, my friend.”

“Well, it starts with me watching him fall of a cliff, so--”

Saki interjected, “Oh, I’ve heard this one!”   
“No,” Teba replied, “He just falls off cliffs a lot.”

Link shook his head and feigned irritation at the jovial beration of his peers, but laughed all the same through Bato’s embarrassing story. Link’s minor scolding was forgotten by all the table guests, except for one.

Against the dusky sky, the Rito entertainers performed a flight show for their guests. Their elegant silhouettes danced through the sky, lithe and lighter than air, winding around one another and making fleeting formations in time to the nearby musicians. Link and Zelda sat on the launching platform and watched in awe. Bomb arrows punctuated the routine, bursting midair in a frenzy of glittering orange and red. 

Nighttime rushed up quicker than they expected. Soon, the sky was full of winking starlight, and their fatigue had caught up to them at last. It seemed to be the same for the Ritos. Link and Zelda excused themselves once the yawning crowd began to thin. They promised the whining Rito children that they would be back in the morning to play with them, shook the hands of those they’d been chatting up, and descended through the village in the direction of their cottage. 

Zelda was wordless and cross-armed as they crossed the bridges back. It was silent and dark away from the lively village, just as Link remembered. 

He stretched his arms over his head and spared Zelda a glance. She looked troubled, so he asked, “Are you alright?”

After a pause, she replied, “Yes.”

Link dug the key to the cottage out of his pocket as they approached the porch. “You’re not a good liar.”

“It’s not easy, Link, feeling like an outsider in your own kingdom,” Zelda bit out, “Alright? And if I wanted to talk to you about it, well, then I would talk to you about it.”

Anger swelled up in Link and he fought hard to swallow it back down as he always did when Zelda demeaned him. He shoved the key into the lock and threw the front door open with more force than necessary. It was cold inside the cottage, which inadvertently added to Link’s aggravation. He decided to throw wood into the fireplace before Zelda could bitch about it, but when he looked over at her, she was hesitating in the open doorway with a furrowed brow. 

“What?” He spat, kneeling in front of the fireplace. 

“I didn’t… I wasn’t--”

“No, you were,” Link said, undoing a bundle of wood in the basket placed beside the stone, “You always are. Whatever. It’s my fault for reaching out, right? Should’ve taken the first thousand hints about how little I mean to you.”   
Zelda hesitated. She then closed the door behind her and stepped down into the living room, watching Link ignite the fire. 

“Don’t have anything to say this time?” 

“I’m sorry,” She said softly, “I never meant to make you feel that way.”

“Just shut  _ up _ ,” Link groaned, throwing his matchbox into the firewood basket. He rose, his anger running his mouth before his mind could stop him, years of hurt stumbling out from his lips at a velocity he didn’t have a chance at intercepting, “You’re not sorry! You’re not, so just-- just stop pretending you are. You’re never sorry for how you treat me. You love having a punching bag too damn much.”   
“You’re not my punching bag,” Zelda insisted, wrapping her arms around herself. 

“You act like you’re the only person who’s still angry all the time!” Link shouted, “I don’t know if you forgot, but I lost  _ my  _ family too! I lost  _ my  _ home too! And I-- I went through just as much shit as you did to get it back. Cut the martyr complex, Zelda. I’m tired of it.”

“I don’t have a complex!”   
“Yes, you do! And we’ll never get anywhere if you can’t admit that!” Link threw his arms into the air, “I’m supposed to be your friend! Why can’t we be friends anymore? Why do you have to hate me so much? What the hell did I ever do to you?”

Zelda clenched her jaw and looked away, tiny tears sprouting in the corners of her eyes, “I’m sorry! I’m sorry, I don’t know what else you want me to say!”

“I don’t want your apologies!” Link exclaimed, “I want you to treat me with the respect you’d give anyone else who has dedicated their entire life to keeping  _ you  _ safe! Who spent years getting their ass kicked by this place and everything in it so they could save  _ you! _ Who grins and bears it every time  _ you  _ snap at them because they care about  _ you  _ too much to walk away!”

Link and Zelda stared at each other for a long moment. Perfect silence, aside from the crackling fire behind Link, only built the tension. It was dim, but Link could make out the tears rolling down her cheeks. His shoulders sagged. He was so tired. 

“I know you don’t give a shit about me anymore. But you  _ know  _ how much I care about you, and you know that I’m going to be here until I die and it’s  _ not  _ because of the oath I took. And-- and exploiting my commitment to you isn’t fucking fair.”   
Zelda’s voice shook. “I... w-wasn’t exploiting--”

Link held up a hand. “Stop. Just stop.”

“I  _ swear _ ,” Zelda whispered, wiping at her cheeks. 

“Please, just stop,” Link pushed his hair out of his face, “I’m tired. I don’t want to do this anymore. I’m going to bed.”

“Link-- Link, please,” Zelda whimpered as he walked past her in the direction of his bedroom, reaching out a trembling hand to him, “I’m sorry, Link, I’m sorry.”

It took every ounce of strength he had to get to his room without turning to comfort her. He shut his door quietly and leaned his back against it, pressing the heels of his palms against his stinging eyes.  _ You didn’t have to be so mean,  _ he told his raging heart.  _ That never stopped her,  _ his heart replied. 

Lying in bed that night, unable to sleep under the weight of his guilt no matter how much his sore muscles begged, Link felt empty. He wasn’t proud. He wasn’t relieved to get all that off his chest. 

Maybe Ganon had won after all.

He took it all. He took their lands, their families, their hopes. 

He took Link’s best friend. 

Did he think if he yelled loud enough, he would wake the old Zelda up inside her? Did he think somehow his rage would’ve done any good, as if it hadn’t been nothing more than a burden for years? 

Link turned on his side and curled up into himself. His fury, his sadness, his grief-- they whirled around inside him, a hateful tornado that shredded him up so bloodily that all he could do was cry. 

Morning came too soon. When Link emerged from his bedroom, exhausted both physically and emotionally from the long night of turmoil he’d endured, Zelda was already gone. Her note on the kitchenette counter was brief:  _ Left for the village. I’ll see you later.  _

He was relieved. Their public civility was practiced and perfected. He was an excellent pretender, and so he would pretend last night had never happened. Easy as breathing. He could be spiteful, but he would not embarrass her in front of the Ritos by dragging Zelda’s private life out in front of them. 

The Ritos were the most historically amicable Hyruleans in royal affairs, so he did not worry about Zelda being apart from him. He took his time getting ready in the cottage. If he was stalling-- which he was-- he did not admit it to himself. Unfortunately, he ran out of ways to busy himself rather quickly, so with his damp hair in a knot at the top of his head and his royal uniform (sans armor) adorned, he headed in the direction of the Rito Village. 

Zelda was on a small, secluded balcony-- more of a tiny nook, really-- built off one of the wider landings. Seated across from an elderly woman at a tiny table, she appeared to be collecting stories. Link guessed that the groups of Ritos loitering outside were waiting to share their own tales. He passed through them, nodding in greeting to those he knew personally, and approached the edge of the landing. Zelda glanced up and over the shoulder of the Rito woman she was speaking with. Their eyes met. They wore matching blank expressions at the sight of one another. Forced, yes, but no one else would be able to tell. 

_ Glad we can agree on that,  _ Link thought. 

“Good morning, Sir Link,” said Detri, a Rito guardsman positioned between Zelda’s space and the rest of the Ritos. 

“Morning,” Link replied. 

“Kaneli offered Queen Zelda one of the balconies attached to this landing so that she can collect the stories that she’s here for,” Detri explained, “She instructed me to tell you upon your arrival that she will not be needing you today. She said that you are free to roam the village as you please, and she will come and get you when she’s through with her work.”

Link snorted before he could stop himself. He quickly recovered and said, “Got it. Thanks, Detri.”

It seemed that Zelda was no more keen to speak to Link than he was to speak to her.  _ Fine _ . But, of course, the rejection stung. He was not needed, which wouldn’t have hurt so much if his whole life’s purpose wasn’t being needed by her.

He chewed his lip and turned away. 

With much of the village meandering near the landing Zelda was situated at, there was little around to keep his mind off his mounting anxiety. A small weapons and armor shop caught his eye, however. The young Rito behind the counter seemed nervous about Link inspecting the merchandise. He was used to that, though. It was funny-- before he beat Ganon, back when no one had much faith in his endeavor, he was just some guy. Now, everyone was starstruck. 

Link examined the bow selection intently. His favorite one back home was wearing out, and they carried a similar design here. It was redwood, carved with deep swirls and accented with green and white. Very Rito, and very beautiful. 

He ran his index finger along the string and asked, “How much for this?”

“Oh, um,” The Rito salesperson leaned around the counter to see which one Link was referring to, “550 rupees, but-- I couldn’t dream of charging the Hero of Hyrule. Take it, it’s yours.”   
Link shook his head and took out his wallet, “No way. Here, I’m on the Castle’s dime.”

“Are you sure?”

“It’s handmade, of course I’m sure,” Link said, “Tell the artisan they did an incredible job. I know what a well made bow looks like.”

The Rito glanced away and chuckled, “Uh, I made it, actually.”   
“Really?”

They nodded. 

“Did you make all of these?”

“Oh, no!” They laughed, taking the rupees from Link’s open palm and placing them in the register, “But many of them are from my class. We have a few travelling teachers that come by and show us how to craft weapons. Teba takes us out to the Flight Range every so often to train us as well. We can never be too prepared if Ganon comes back.”

Link sighed, “That’s for sure.”

“Um, is it weird to thank you?”

“For… buying a bow?”

“No, for, um,” The Rito chuckled, “Y’know.”   
“Oh. I mean, you’re welcome. I don’t know, I get thanked a lot but-- it’s my home, too, right? It was the least I could do.”

“I feel the same way,” They said, “That’s why I wanna train.”

Link quirked a brow, “How old are you?”   
“Fifteen.”

“Wow,” Link said. Young for Hylian standards, but here, they would be considered a fully-fledged adult. “Hey, y’know, I was a few years younger than you when I started training to be Zelda’s-- uh, the Queen’s Royal Knight. Can’t start too young, I suppose.”   
“I’d  _ love  _ to work at the Castle someday,” They said dreamily. 

Link chuckled, “It’s not all it’s cracked up to be. What’s your name?”

“Orozi.”

“Have you ever been to the Castle, Orozi?”

They shook their head, “No. Never been farther east than Tanagar.”

“Hm. You should visit. You’re a skilled craftsman, you know. You’ve got a gift.”

They dipped their head, “Th-thank you, sir.”

“The armory is always looking for fresh blood. I might be able to find you a position, if you’re interested.”

Their eyes widened, “ _ Really? _ ”

“Sure, why not?”   
“Is it… nice? Living at the Castle?”

Link shrugged, “It’s… not glamorous, I’ll tell you that. The Calamity destroyed a lot of it. There’s about a decade’s worth of repairs that still need to be done. But it’s nice to be home, I think.”

“I’d love to get off this rock and see it someday,” They said, “There’s so much out there.”

“There is, yeah.”

“You traveled a lot, didn’t you? That’s what everyone says.”

“I did. I had to do a lot of training before I got anywhere near good enough to fight Ganon.”

“What was your favorite place?”

Link considered that for a moment, “Necluda, maybe. Or Lanayru. I like the eastern coast.”

“I can’t wait to see the ocean.”

“You should visit Lurelin then.”

“Lurelin?”   
“It’s a coastal town in Southern Necluda. I loved it there when I visited. Great food, too.”   
“Are you and Queen Zelda going to visit it?”

“Yup, we’ll be visiting just about everywhere. Except for, uh, I think Gerudo Town-- for obvious reasons-- and Akkala. Not that there’s much in Akkala, really.” 

“Can I, um,” They fiddled with the latch on the register, “Can I ask you a question about Queen Zelda?”

Link quirked a brow, “Sure. I might not be allowed to answer it, but-- go ahead.”

“Well, it’s just that a friend of my older sister used to work in the kitchen. She had to come home because of, like, some medical stuff. But anyway, she told me that Zelda’s favorite dessert was fried bananas and honey. Is that true? Because I know a really good recipe for it that my mom used to make and-- and, I don’t know, maybe it’s weird, but I just wanted to give her some before she left, maybe?”

Link thought about it for a second. He couldn’t remember a single instance of her ever having that around him, but then again, he couldn’t name a single food she particularly liked. He supposed that he simply never paid that much attention. “Uh, I don’t know, actually.”

“Oh, I just figured that maybe you guys ate together. Sorry, it was weird to ask.”

“No, no, not at all. I’ve been asked way weirder stuff about the Queen,” Link reassured them.

They laughed, “I guess everyone just considers that you guys to be a matched pair.”

“Well,” Link shrugged, “Not so much these days, I don’t think.”

Somewhat embarrassed, Orozi said, “Sorry for assuming.”

“Nah, don’t be. People change. Even the Queen, even me,” Link packed up his wallet and slung his bow over his shoulder, “I’m serious about that offer, okay? Next time I need a good bow, it’s you that I’m coming for.”

Orozi nodded, “It would be my pleasure, sir.”

With all the shops perused and idle chatter made with those Link knew by name, he returned to the cottage. Thankfully, opening up the windows and allowing fresh air and sunshine in made the place feel a lot less like the gallows as he awaited Zelda’s arrival. Once he had finished tidying up, boredly browsing the bookshelves, and reorganizing his belongings in their respective bags, he settled onto the couch. Defeated. 


	6. Final Night At The Rito Village

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Link and Zelda attempt to resolve their explosive argument from the previous night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a little short, but the previous chapter would've been far too long if I hadn't broken them up. Enjoy!

The more he thought about it, the less he regretted his words. He was a careful, peaceful soul by nature, but enough was enough. And yet, the image of Zelda’s tear-streaked face was seared behind his eyes. 

He had never yelled at her like that. He had never yelled at anyone like that. 

Again, the thought came to him.  _ Maybe Ganon won.  _

After all, it’s not worth fighting to live in a world that you cannot be happy in. Might Link have been happier if he had resigned himself to failure, lived out his days in some distant corner of Hyrule, like Selmie, with the ruined Castle far out of sight and mind? Might Link have been happier if perhaps just once, Mipha’s spirit had been too late in saving him from an attack?    
Link held that question in his hands for a long, long moment.

Was this life worth it?

No, really, was it? He’d saved Hyrule, sure, he banished Ganon to the darkness. But it wasn’t the first time, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. He’d wrestle free once more and burst from the cold beneath, engulf Link’s home once more, and they’d all be back at square one. 

Did anyone ever lose? Did anyone ever win? 

What was the point?

_ I should’ve stayed dead.  _

The shock of that thought tore through him. He leaned back, placed the bow down on his lap. He felt sick that he had even allowed himself to think that condemning the world he loved to an eternity of darkness was an acceptable alternative to his own pain. He was nauseated by his own selfishness. 

Somehow, things were more simple when he was fighting for his life. 

By the time the front door to the cottage swung open, afternoon had all but given way to evening. Zelda, expression flat as it was in the morning, stood in the doorway looking positively weary from many hours of dictation. She glanced down at the bow in Link’s lap, “Have you graduated from scolding to regicide?”

“Can we talk?”

Zelda snorted and closed the door behind her. “I’m not sure. You seemed incapable of doing so last night, and I’d rather this not devolve into a screaming match.”

Link rubbed at his tired eyes, “I’m… I’m sorry. For how I spoke to you.”

Zelda was quiet as she placed her leather bag onto the table next to the door. Link thought she might look just as tired as he did. She smoothed her hair out of her face. She’d cut it right before they embarked on their journey, and it fluttered just at her jaw now. She looked so much older these days. 

“I believe I have some, um,” She sighed, “apologizing to do as well.”

They regarded each other. It was unfamiliar ground for both of them. Zelda sighed and sat in an armchair across from Link, rigidly bracing her elbows on her knees and making meaningful eye contact with the floor. For a long moment, it was deeply silent, with only the birds chirping outside to fill the quiet.

“I’ve been disrespectful to you as my appointed royal knight,” She said stiffly, “And for that, I am truly sorry. I am also sorry for my emotional, childish behavior.”

“ _ What? _ ”

“It’s unbecoming of a queen to become so openly upset,” She explained. 

Link ran his hands over his face, exasperated, “You’re-- you’re  _ allowed  _ to be upset, Zel. All I asked was that you stop taking it out on me.”

“Yes. Which I agree with, and that brings me to my next point. I’ve thought hard on it, Link, and I believe that in order to effectively govern a nation in shambles as well as conquer my own… internal turmoil, you and I need to refrain from treating one another as anything more than we are.”

Link furrowed his brow. “I’m not following.”   
Zelda glanced up at him and then swiftly away. “I’m a queen, and you are my personal knight. Going forward, I believe that our relationship needs to extend to that and go no further.”

“What?” Link’s heart caught in his throat, “ _ Why? _ ”

Zelda’s perfectly calm veneer fragmented momentarily as she bit her lip and closed her eyes. “You have become too many things to me. And that is complicating  _ everything. _ We’re no longer children, Link. We have roles to fill.”

Struggling to keep an even tone with hurt bubbling just beneath the surface of his voice, Link asked, “So, this is my punishment? For trying to fix things between us? I get cut off completely?”

“It’s not  _ cutting you off _ , it’s-- it’s returning things to their natural order. My father routinely scolded me for my personal investment into you, and as a child, I was defiant and disbelieving towards his warnings. But he was correct. I am royalty, and--”

“And I’m shit, right? Can’t have me bringing your reputation down, got it.”

“ _ No, _ ” Zelda said sharply, “I cannot do what needs to be done as a leader if I am constantly toiling in the stress of fixing our friendship. We can’t be friends. It doesn’t work, it never will, and it is time to stop trying.”

Link’s fingers dug into the armrest of the sofa. “That’s it? That’s it, we’re just done here? You never even  _ tried!” _

“I did try! I tried my best, but I--”   
“Snapping at me and bossing me around and hiding from me in the Castle half the time is  _ trying?” _

“I don’t know how to talk to you!” Zelda exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air, “I don’t  _ know  _ what to say to you! And it hurts! And I’ve had enough hurt, Link!”

“Why is it all about  _ you?  _ Haven’t you considered that this might hurt  _ me?”  _ Link shot forward in his seat. He balled his fists up on his knees.

“I don’t know what you want from me!” Zelda’s lip trembled.

“I want  _ empathy! _ ”

“I don’t know how to give you that when you can’t give me the same courtesy!”

“How can I empathize with someone I know nothing about? All you do is run from me! You never tell me anything, we never talk anymore!”

“You don’t tell me anything either! Why am I always the bad guy?” Zelda’s voice caught in her throat, fragile with the coming onslaught of tears. 

“I never said you were the bad guy--”

“But I am! It’s always me, I’m the one who isn’t trying, right? You can’t even begin to understand what the last century was like for me and you never even tried to ask! It’s always you-- the big hero, your job’s done, right? But I don’t get a  _ break!  _ I have a kingdom to rebuild from the ground up! And Hylia forbid I might struggle-- and for that I’m really, truly sorry! But I have nothing! I have no one! _ ”  _

Exasperated, Zelda threw her arms out. The back of her hand collided with a ceramic cup on the side table and it flung onto the floor with a resounding crash. 

“ _ Fuck! _ ” She shouted.

Link blinked, “Zelda--”

“We’re fighting so hard to have something back that we can never have and I’m tired of it! I’m not your Zelda anymore. I’m not her, I can never be her, and I know you need me to be but I  _ can’t.  _ I cannot be everything that everyone wants from me all the time! I’ve changed and I can’t keep being sorry for it! And if you can’t accept that, then I don’t want to try anymore! You’re so fine with everything, it’s like nothing even happened to you. But I’m colder and I’m harder and I’m angrier and-- and I don’t know how to stop it and I’m trying so hard! I spent a century fighting and hurting and-- and--” Her voice broke and her head sank into her hands. 

Zelda’s body shook, wracked with grief. And Link watched, drowning in the desire to reach across the room, to reach across this grand divide and hold her. In his mind, he soothed her tears as he did in their youth. In his mind, in the perfect world he dreamt of and longed for, he held her hand and assured her things would be fine, that he would take care of it. 

In his perfect world, he had fought a little harder, he hadn’t let himself die. He didn’t leave her alone with Ganon. He didn’t let all this happen to her.

But things were not perfect, nor would they ever be.

The bottom of this deep well filled with century-old sorrows was the truth of Link’s guilt. His story began with the Shrine of Resurrection, began with the aftermath of his failure, began with the fatal flaw that turned Zelda into what she is now. 

Had Link been fighting to turn her back so that he may more easily escape the weight of the sin that was failing to do the  _ one thing  _ he was put on this planet to do? And had he let Zelda, bound by her drive for peace and praise, carry the burden of fixing herself so that Link might be more comfortable?

They’d been pushing and pulling at one another for so long. They’d been fighting to get the other to fit into the shape of their memories, never looking the century they’d lost in the eye. If Link had taken even a fraction of the time spent mourning the loss of the old Zelda, perhaps he could’ve learned how to love the new one. But he hadn’t. And now, he needed to.

The anger melted out of Link’s body. He carefully rose from his seat and crossed the room, standing before Zelda’s hunched over and weeping form. He knelt before her as he had a million times before. She didn’t flinch away when he pushed the hair out of her face, damp from her tears. He let her cry. He soothed her wordlessly until she had gotten a grip on herself and her trembling began to subside. 

Then, he said softly, “I’m sorry. I mean it. I’m going to be better.”

Zelda blinked at him silently, the last of her tears rolling off her chin. Her arms were wrapped firmly around herself. She was  _ trying _ , and he knew she was. 

“I want to be your friend. And I will take no for an answer, but Zelda, I want to be your friend again. A real friend, not what we’ve been trying to do,” Link said, his own voice brittle with tears pricking up in his eyes, “You’re all I have, and I’m all you have. I won’t make you be someone you’re not anymore. Just please… please give me a chance to understand what you _are_.”

Zelda opened her mouth to speak, but only a wet whimper came out. She clutched at the front of his shirt and drew him in. They had not hugged since the first day they reunited in Hyrule Field after Link defeated Ganon. But they crushed against one another now, tearful, apologetic, and trending towards true understanding for the first time in years. 

They had been selfish with one another. It was easier to lash out than to face the harsh reality that they knew little about one another these days. They had been lost in their own grief, trying to drag the other down with them, and only getting angrier when they never reached the resolve they sought after. 

No longer could Link see Zelda as scraps of someone he once loved. He would have to see her for what she truly was, which was an entirely new person, who was just as worthy of his devotion. There wasn’t an  _ old Zelda. _ There was this Zelda. There was always going to be this Zelda, who was  _ his  _ Zelda. 

The time to grieve, to ruminate on his past failures, to punish himself and the people he loved for his own stunted ways was through. He would patch his wounded heart and press on as any good soldier must.   



	7. Evening at the Snowfield Stable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Link and Zelda arrive at the Snowfield Stable and meet its interesting new owners.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, sorry for the late update. I had midterms and have been doing a lot of quarantine gaming and not nearly enough quarantine writing. The indenting formatting got weird on this one for reasons I don't understand, and I'm too lazy to manually fix it. Sorry about that. Enjoy!

In the morning, they departed Rito Village. Kaneli, Teba, Saki, and some of the other Rito dignitaries met them in the morning to bid them safe travels. Saki provided them a small pouch of baked treats, including Link’s favorite cookies and a bundle of fried bananas that Saki said (with a wink) were a gift from another Rito who wanted to remain anonymous. 

The Ritos went west, back to the village. Link and Zelda headed east, tracing the way that they had come until they cleared Lake Totori and began their trip north. 

The travellers they saw along this path were few and far between. Not many were dull enough to attempt a trip to the desolate Hebra region this close to autumn. But Link and Zelda had to pass through the southern portion of the Tabantha Tundra in order to head east once more, and Link had made it clear that he did not care to hear Zelda whine over the cold when he’d been to the region’s peak and lived to tell the tale. 

Things were somehow stiffer now between the two of them than they were previously. Their twin emotional explosions the previous night had them on guard with each other. Zelda, likely embarrassed, was more monosyllabic than usual. Link, definitely embarrassed, was at a loss as to what he could do to comfort her. 

Fortunately, there was not much to discuss as they slowly traversed the brutal terrain. They’d been lucky enough to come through before blizzard season, but the glittering snow thickened underfoot the further north they ventured, slowing their ascent. With mouths covered by barely-breathable masks and earmuffs of the softest, thickest furs, they relied on mumbles and hand gestures only to communicate. This was easy for the two of them. Most people were educated thoroughly in Hyrulean Sign Language, especially nobility, and Link had used it more often than not in his childhood during the worst of his speech aversion. Of course, the signs had evolved considerably over the past 100 years, broken up into their own regional dialects when there wasn’t dedicated efforts towards language preservation under King Rhoam’s rule. Link and Zelda’s signing vernacular was so old it was nearly impossible to follow to outsiders. This was used to their advantage in political negotiations or when one had some off-color commentary to make while others were around. It was charming, Link thought, the way they spoke to each other in their own “secret” language, like children creating clandestine codes to write to one another in class. 

With the fragility of their relationship at the forefront of Link’s mind and the lack of much else to do on their trek, he pondered the intricacies of what they had with one another. It seemed as though it changed by the minute. He often felt brief glimpses of true friendship, banter, liveliness-- but these were swiftly replaced by cold, diplomatic exchanges, typical of their political standings. The cycle continued as such. There was never a comfortable option in between the two that they could call home. Or, at least, there hadn’t been until now. 

Now, it was clear both he and Zelda bore the burden of finding that happy medium that could provide their relationship with the comfort and growth it so desperately needed. What they had been doing just wasn’t working. 

_ But _ , Link thought, glancing at Zelda’s steely expression as she stared straight ahead into the gaping mouth of the desolate tundra,  _ this isn’t working either.  _

Link nudged her. Zelda looked at him, confused, as he waved her to follow him westward. She shook her head, uncrossing her arms and pointing north. Link rolled his eyes and waved her again. When she shook her head and pointed again more insistently, he tugged down his mask. 

“Come  _ this  _ way, I want to show you something.”

Zelda frustratedly pulled her mask down as well, “We’re nearly to the stable, Link--”

“I know, and this will only take a few minutes.”

“The sun is going down!”

“Zelda,” Link sighed, “would you just come here?”

She narrowed her eyes, but finally relented. “I’m  _ tired _ ,” She groaned. 

“Yeah, like I’m not?” Link replied, guiding her to the edge of Tanagar Canyon that they’d previously stayed far away from in hopes of curbing Zelda’s fear of heights. 

Zelda clicked her tongue but said nothing. 

They approached the edge of the canyon, and the grandiosity of its depth was not lost on the two of them. Zelda, perhaps even unconsciously, clung close to Link’s side as they peeked over the edge. 

“Look over there,” Link said, pointing down and to the left.

Zelda nervously asked, “What? Where?”

It was mostly obscured in the drift of early snowfall and rock dust far below, but once Zelda’s squinting eyes caught hold of it, they widened in delight and intrigue. 

“Is that the...”

“Forgotten Temple?” Link offered, looking over at her, “It is, yeah.”

“Oh, my,” Zelda sighed, “I’ve always wanted to visit. So few remember that it’s even still here. Part of me wants to send in reconstruction efforts, even if only to survey the extent of the damage but… part of me wants to respect its aging.”

Link nodded, “Some things should be left as they are.”

“Did you ever visit it?”

“Yeah, once or twice.”

“Is it as incredible as the legends say?”

“Well,” Link shrugged, “It was crawling with Guardians last time I went there. But I suppose that’s not much of a problem anymore. Other than that it’s pretty empty, actually. Definitely has the largest Hylia statue in all of Hyrule, though.”

Zelda hummed thoughtfully. “There’s so much here that we can scarcely begin to understand. The Lomei Labyrinths, Typhlo Ruins, the Zonai lands in Faron… it’s as if wherever you step, you’re landing somewhere sacred and mysterious in one way or another. Inheriting a land that you know so little about, and cannot ever possibly learn it all… it doesn’t sit well with my scholarly nature, I don’t think.”

Link snorted. “It puts things into perspective. Humbles us, I think. Reminds us that we’re not permanent. But in a good way, I think.”

“Indeed,” Zelda said, then paused. “Could we go down there? To visit the Forgotten Temple?”

Link wrinkled his nose, “Not with this gear. No way.”   
Zelda’s face fell. She turned away from the Canyon, dejected. 

“That doesn’t mean we can’t come  _ back _ ,” Link reminded her, “The climb is no joke. I’d accompany you, if that’s what you’d like.”

Zelda hesitated, then nodded. “I think I would like that, yes.”

Link pulled his mask back up over his nose. This was partly to hide his small, triumphant smile, and partly because the air was getting colder by the minute as the sunshine waned. 

They stumbled into the Snowfield Stable’s warm embrace not a moment too soon as the weather turned decidedly foul. It was a light snowfall, and would surely pass by the morning, but for now they were eager for a comfortable place to rest. The stable, much like that of the one near the Tabantha Bridge, had been renovated the previous summer and outfitted to host more occupants than it previously had room for. It wasn’t quite as large as the other had been, but it would more than suffice after the long hike they’d endured. 

The stable was run by a cluster of young Sheikah friends. They were the only ones inhabiting it at the moment, given the rough weather. Once Link and Zelda had been shown to their rooms (smallest of the few they’d had so far, but beggars were certainly not choosers in this climate), they all convened in the common room. They told their royal visitors-- mostly talking over one another-- of their interest in the faraway, forgotten shrines as well as the Lomei Labyrinth to the north. That interest inspired them to move away from Kakariko and take over the dilapidated stable. They were historians, anthropologists, artists, theologists, and many were a mix of two or three. They were naive, but tenacious. Link admired their spirit. 

The place was severely lived-in, but it wasn’t unclean so much as it just seemed to host everything, everywhere, all the time. Link thought this must’ve been what Robbie’s home looked like when he was young like these folks. Lurra, a young woman with sharp features who wore her white hair cropped close to her scalp, perched atop a table that was cluttered with… well, clutter. 

She admitted to them, “We haven’t gotten out as much as we might have liked to, honestly. We’ve spent a lot of time fixing this place up and making it our own. But with the traveler season ending, we’ll use this winter to finish up the last of our renovations, and then we can really get to work.”

Kozus, a young man who had been quieter than his chirpy housemates, piped up from across the room, “We have this, uh-- this big project in mind, right? We’d really like to do some investigation on the leviathan bones by the--”

“ _ Yeah! _ ” Another bouncy member of the group chimed in. Link thought he remembered his name being Leklan? The introductions had flown by so fast that his exhausted brain couldn’t snatch them all up. He continued, “Of course, we’d need permission from the Castle before we began any sort of excavations--”

“We certainly weren’t just going to go up there and start messing with it, don’t get the wrong idea,” urged Lurra. 

Arra, Lurra’s brother, joked, “Oh, were we supposed to keep our plans to blow it up a secret from the Queen?”

Zelda, who sat beside Link on one of the sofas, giggled. Her eyelids sagged and her cheeks flushed, either from fatigue or the second drink that she was nearly through with. They’d all had one or two (aside from Link, whose vigilance as Zelda’s personal knight forbade him from letting his guard down around strangers) to celebrate their ruler’s arrival. Zelda leaned her shoulder against Link’s. He didn’t think she realized she had, but he wasn’t going to mention it. 

“Are you going to investigate the, um,” Zelda blinked, searching for the word, “The Forgotten Temple? Link and I were just talking about it, and--”

Lurra pointed at Zelda excitedly, “Yes! That’s what I’ve been looking into! Oh, um,” She dropped her hand and blushed, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to uh-- cut you off, your highness.” 

Zelda waved her off, “It’s fine, I won’t have you beheaded  _ this  _ time.”

The room erupted into laughter, Link included. Real laughter, he noticed, not  _ we’re-awkwardly-appeasing-our-monarch  _ laughter that would follow Zelda’s dry humor back at the Castle. Link fondly looked over at her as the conversation veered back towards the young group’s many intellectual pursuits. She was cheerful, despite the day’s long walk. She was in her element. 

After regaling the room with a slightly slurred story of one of the many treacherous experiences the group had while traveling from Necluda to Hebra, Lurra stood and stretched her arms over her head. “I’m going to the kitchen. Is anyone dry?”

A few of the Sheikah raised their cups and Lurra collected them in turn. Zelda looked down at her own, pensive. She looked over at Link with an inquisitively wrinkled nose.

Link nudged her and said softly, “I’m watching you. You’re fine.”

The corner of Zelda’s lip curved up into a relaxed smile.

“Your majesty, can I get you anything?” Lurra asked sweetly, approaching the two of them with expectant eyes. 

“Um,” Zelda cleared her throat, “Yes, I’m actually a bit hungry...”

“Oh, of course! I’ll fix you something,” Lurra collected Zelda’s cup, smiled warmly, and retreated down the hall in the direction of their kitchen. 

Junla, a small girl who was by far the lightest weight in the room, sat on the floor with her back leaning against the side of a desk piled high with books. She hiccuped once and asked, “Is this, like, um-- is it against the law?”

Arra chuckled and asked, “What law?”

“I mean,” Junla gestured nonspecifically, “I don’t know. I have  _ no idea  _ how I’m supposed to act around royalty, but I think drinking and talking about sh--  _ stuff  _ isn’t…”

Zelda shook her head, “It’s perfectly fine. It’s not like I have any downtime at the Castle anyway, so it’s a… welcome reprieve.”

“Being a queen must be hard,” Junla commented sincerely. 

Zelda looked down at her hands, toying with her fingers in her lap. “It’s no harder I think, um, than anyone else’s work. We’re all part of the same big working machine. I try not to complain. It’s tacky. Especially when I’m talking to, well, you know.”

Kozus chuckled, “Us untouchable, toiling serfs.”

Zelda’s eyes shot up to him. “No, I--”

Link stiffened and said firmly, “That’s not what the Queen was getting at.”

Kozus’ eyes widened, “Oh, I-- I was just kidding, I’m sorry.”

“Kozus, uh,” Arra cleared his throat, “Has foot-in-mouth syndrome, and it’s regrettably incurable.”

“I don’t consider anyone  _ serfs, _ ” Zelda insisted.

“It was in poor taste. I’m sorry. Too much of Sheikah humor relies on poking fun at the crown, I’m afraid,” Kozus smiled sheepishly. 

Zelda pursed her lips. She was quiet for a moment before she said, “I recognize the strained relationship that the Sheikah have with the royal family. And I don’t hold that opinion against any of you, even… well, even the Yiga Clan. But it’s something I deeply wish to repair during my rule. What happened with-- with the destruction and the shunning and… I don’t agree with what my ancestors did. And I don’t agree with perpetuating the tensions. Reparations are long overdue.”

Leklan spoke up, “I think having someone  _ our  _ age in power is better than the grouchy old kings of times long past. We’re too young to be brainwashed into hating each other because we just, y’know,” he waved his hand around.

“Because, historically, we’ve seen each other as threats. Neither of us ever let our guard down. Not completely, at least,” Kozus said, earning an agreeing nod from Leklan. 

“When you received our letter,” Link asked tentatively, “Was it, I don’t know, nerve-wracking? Because it  _ was  _ from the royal family?”

Junla chewed her lip. “Can we speak freely, your highness?”

Zelda nodded emphatically, “Always, yes.”   
“Then yes,” Junla confirmed. “And it’s not that we dislike you, we just…”

“There’s a lack of trust. Where there’s distrust, there’s worry, fear, edginess,” Arra shrugged. 

Zelda nodded solemnly, “It saddens me to hear that.”

Junla urged, “It’s not personal!”

“Oh, I know it isn’t. I don’t take it personally, I appreciate the criticism. Being a queen is new to me, but I want to do better.”

“I do  _ personally  _ like you,” Lurra chuckled, returning with full cups and a platter of snacks. The kitchen was only the next room over, so she must’ve heard the whole exchange. She placed the food down on the coffee table in front of Link and Zelda and distributed the cups to their rightful owners. She took a seat beside Zelda, which Link quirked an eyebrow at but remained silent.

“I’m glad,” Zelda smiled, taking a sip, “I like you all as well. I think, in another life, I might have been keen to do exactly what you’re all doing here. I was scolded in my youth for paying more attention to my own exploration pursuits than my, well, royal ones.”

Link grinned, “Yeah, Zel was a real geek when we were young.”

“I was  _ not! _ ”

“ _ Zel?  _ Is that what you call her? Oh, that’s so cute!” Junla giggled.

Link cleared his throat. “Well, I mean, we go way back. A century or so.”

“That’s crazy. Are you guys, like, in an arrangement or something?”

“Arrangement?”

“Like an arranged marriage.”

Kozus hissed, “Junla, you can’t ask--”

“Um.” Zelda’s mouth supplied in lieu of her intoxicated brain forming a reply.

“I’m sorry, no, you’re right, I shouldn’t have asked,” Junla shook her head quickly, “My bad, I’m sorry. I was just thinking-- um, I don’t know how royal stuff works! I’m playing it by ear!”   
Link laughed and rubbed at his eyes, “Uh, well, no. Me and Zelda are definitely not in an arranged marriage. I’m her knight, so I’m not even legally allowed to marry her.”

Junla gestured emphatically in his direction, “See! I don’t know that! You guys need to send out a-- what are they called?”

“A… memorandum?” Leklan offered.

“Maybe?” Junla squeezed her eyes shut hard, thinking. 

“Handbook?” Arra asked.

Junla’s eyes popped open and she pointed at him, “ _ Yes!  _ A handbook, thank you. You guys-- like, everyone up at the Castle-- you guys need to send us all a handbook because we don’t know our rights from our lefts with all new junk.”

“You’re fine,” Zelda assured her, “Regardless, it’s time to do away with many of the old etiquettes.”

“Ooh, we’ve got a new, hip queen,” Arra commented, making the rest of the room wince.    
“I prefer  _ realistic _ . There’s too many old customs that we simply do not need anymore. Rules upon rules upon  _ rules, _ ” Zelda sighed, retrieving a handful of crackers off the platter before her and settling against the back of the couch as though the very mention of Castle etiquette exhausted her, “It’s all, like… you can’t talk to this person, you can only talk to this person under  _ these  _ circumstances, but you have to be kneeling, or you can never kneel, or you can’t make eye contact, or you  _ definitely  _ must make eye contact--  _ ugh!  _ Who cares!”

Lurra laughed and nudged her, “Well, you’re the queen! Get rid of them!”

“I’m  _ trying _ ,” Zelda groaned, “But I live with-- with a bunch of uppity, important, old people and it’s  _ so  _ annoying.”   
While Link found this petulant, buzzed Zelda to be humorous, he was beginning to regret allowing her to continue her drinking. He said, half-joking, “I think there’s a time and place to badmouth the people we run the nation with, but maybe right now isn’t it.”

Catching on, Zelda sighed, “Yes, yes, I agree.”

“I think more Sheikah-- Yiga Clan too-- would be more willing to trust the royals if they saw this side of you, your highness,” Lurra said softly. 

Zelda picked at the paint that was chipping off of her clay cup. She hummed thoughtfully. “Well,  _ this  _ self does not often bode well in diplomacy, I’m afraid.”

“Hm. Unfortunate, really.  _ This  _ Queen is kinda cute.”

Arra tossed a crumpled up piece of paper at his sister’s head. “Hey, Lurra, can you  _ not  _ flirt with the Queen of Hyrule in front of Hylia and everyone?”

Lurra held her hands up in self defense, “I was just--”

Zelda flushed a deep crimson, embarrassed by her obliviousness. Link turned his head to chuckle where Zelda could not see while the rest of the room laughed uproariously. 

Link and Zelda retired to their rooms not so long after that. No amount of liquor could soothe their exhaustion like sleep. Link walked with Zelda up the stairs with his hand on her back to keep her from swaying  _ too  _ much. 

“One drink too many?” He chuckled once they were out of earshot from their new friends. 

“I  _ thought  _ you were watching me.”

“Oh, I definitely was.” 

Zelda elbowed Link in the side but mostly missed. 

“Can I trust you alone in your room? Promise not to sneak off with your new girlfriend?”

“Can you be quiet for once in your life?”

“Ha.”

“She’s  _ nice _ ,” Zelda said sharply, “But the last thing I need right now is a rumor going around.”

“Oh, what’s an adventure without a few stops here and there?” Link grinned.

As they reached their rooms at the end of the hall, Zelda narrowed her eyes. “You… Did you…?”

“I don’t kiss and tell, your highness,” Link winked, “Get some sleep. Try not to be too hungover in the morning, will you?”

Zelda groaned and rubbed at her eyes, “I’ll do my best.”

“Do you need anything?”

“No, I don’t think so,” Zelda sighed, “I like it here. Wish we didn’t have to go.”

Link pushed her hair back from her forehead and said, “Goodnight, Zelda.”

“Goodnight, Link,” Zelda replied through a rather large, unladylike yawn. 


	8. Morning at the Snowfield Stable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Link experiences a startling revelation about the hidden history of the Snowfield Sheikahs.

Link rose first for once. Having been entrusted with the key to it the night before by a drunken Zelda, he peeked into her bedroom. She was sound asleep, curled up into a ball beneath her plush blankets. It was early enough. He decided to let her sleep in instead of facing her sleepless majesty’s wrath.

It appeared that the Sheikah were all still asleep when Link ventured quietly out to the common area. The place was still a mess, though it sported a few new cups that had been forgotten about the night before. Link collected them and headed into the kitchen, where he discovered that he actually was not the only one up. 

Lurra looked up from a letter she gripped tightly as Link entered the room. Hot coffee was steaming in front of her in a chipped ceramic cup. Red and cream, Link noticed, must have been from home. The drapes were all pulled back from the windows, letting the bluish morning light in. 

“Oh, good morning,” She greeted him, flushing and folding the paper up before setting it on the table beside her plate. 

“‘Morning,” Link replied, setting the cups he’d grabbed into the basin. 

“You didn’t have to clean those up!”

Link waved her off, “It’s no trouble. Thank you for hosting us last night. Zelda had a lot of fun, and… well, she doesn’t often get to do that.”

“It was our pleasure, surely. And, um…” Lurra cleared her throat, “Allow me to extend my obligatory apology for hitting on the literal Queen of Hyrule. I don’t know what got into me-- well, I do,  _ alcohol _ , but. ”

Link laughed, shaking his head, “Believe me, Zelda didn’t mind. She’s just not quite ready for that kind of thing.”

“Well,” Lurra glanced away shyly, “I’m flattered nonetheless. Oh, and apologies for the rest of my little group. Raised by wolves, all of them.”

Link wandered around the kitchen, inspecting the eclectic decor. “They’re a good bunch.”

“I like to think so,” Lurra agreed, “Even when they don’t give me much reason to. Where are you two headed to from here?”

“Across the northern plains to Eldin.”

“Long trip.” Lurra raised her eyebrows. 

“Eh, I’ve made the trek three or four times. It’s not so bad, so long as the weather is cooperative.”

“Which isn’t often,” Lurra pointed out. 

“You’ve got me there,” Link conceded, “But we haven’t got another choice.”

“I’ll pray for easy travels.”

Link chuckled, “You and me both.”

Lurra hummed and sipped her coffee, “Jeez, it’s cold in here. I should get the morning fire going. Excuse me for a moment.”

Link nodded and stepped out of her way so she could exit to the common area where the wide stone fireplace was. He crossed his arms over his chest to fend off the morning chill. The kitchen was more spacious than he’d expected based on the size of the other rooms. It made sense, he supposed, as it used to feed droves of guests during the tourist season. It was full of knick-knacks, cookware, stacks of books (no surprise there), and furniture both old and new. There were boxes as well. It was strange that they hadn’t unpacked everything yet, but then again, he wasn’t the most organized individual, so he didn’t pass judgment.

The kitchen, much like the rest of the place, was a clash of Sheikah and Rito design. The former being mostly hand-me-down types and the latter likely due to their proximity to the village. Link ran his finger along the edge of the dark wooden table that Lurra had been sitting at. He’d seen many of the same angular design back at the Rito Village, but the wooden bowl with the red trim with weeping eyes, piled high with fruit, was definitely something they must have picked up back home. 

Link’s eyes drifted curiously to the letter that Lurra was so quick to stash away upon his entrance. Trained in defense for so long, his observation skills never missed a thing. The corner of the envelope that presumably housed the letter had a Sheikah eye just barely visible in light gray ink. Link found that strange. When Zelda restarted the mail courier service that had once been funded by the Castle, she’d reinstated an act that ordered all mail going out of one township or another to have a seal or stamp indicating its origins. Lurelin had sailboats, the Zoras (never the most creative) used a hammerhead shark symbol, the Gorons had a small flame, so on and so forth. Link pulled the envelope out from where it was half tucked beneath Lurra’s coffee cup. The seal had been obscured by the cup, but upon closer inspection, Link noticed two things. 

The first being that it was from the Gerudo Town.

The second being that this Sheikah eye, hidden as it was by light ink strokes that would’ve been easily missed by any courier, was reversed. 

Link dropped the envelope back onto the table. 

They’d been tricked. Trapped.

His sword was in his bedroom. As were his daggers, bow, and armor. His heart pounded fast in his chest. Yiga Clan were formidable enough when he was fully armed and only had himself to keep safe, but he was horribly exposed here. Zelda was thankfully behind a locked door, but how long could he count on that? How long before she came wandering out?

He would have to dispose of the problem swiftly. 

He heard the first crackles of a fire beginning in the common area. Thinking quickly, he retrieved a kitchen knife from the block by the ice box. It wasn’t as sharp as he might have liked, but it only had to last him until he could reach his room again. 

Lurra’s footsteps came softly down the hall. Link crouched where he was hidden by boxes and other clutter piled high. Here, he was out of sight from the doorway. He gripped the knife with white knuckles, feeling a protective blaze burning within him. This was something that had been drilled into him during his countless training sessions in his youth.  _ It’s not live or die, never see it like that,  _ his combat instructor told him,  _ You will live, and the princess will live. There is no other option. Your only job is to determine how to get there.  _ It was the same resolve that saved Hyrule in the first place. 

Lurra stepped into the room and stopped, confused. Once she had her back turned fully away from where Link was hiding, he struck. He launched out of his crouch and crushed her against the wall. He used one hand to clamp her mouth shut and the other to press the side of the blade firmly against her throat. He could see her terrified eyes with her head turned to the side, darting around. 

She got half a horrified squeal out before Link hissed in her ear, “Put your hands against the wall or I’ll slice your throat right now. Do not speak.”

Lurra immediately complied. Her hands shakily pressed against the wall and she squeezed her eyes shut. 

“What was your plan? Get us comfortable enough to let our guard down and then kill the Queen?” Link said evenly, “Sloppy.”

Lurra made a tiny noise and attempted to shake her head, but the blade against her neck dissuaded her. 

“The Yiga Clan should know by now not to send rookies. How many of you do I have to kill before you learn your lesson?”

Lurra’s eyes shot open. Despite Link’s orders, she insisted against his accusation, though her words were muffled by the hand over her mouth. In retaliation, Link kicked out the back of her knees and sent her stumbling downwards. 

Lurra used the adjustment to briefly break free of Link’s silencing hand. She tearfully cried out, “ _ We’re not Yiga! _ ”

Link stopped trying to cover her mouth. He was shocked and confused by her outcry. Even still, he kept the blade against her. Lurra turned and pressed her forehead against the wall, knelt execution-style before a wide-eyed Link. 

She continued, nearly in sobs, “We’re not Yiga, we’re not Yiga, I promise we’re not! We-- we left years ago, I can prove it!”

Link was conflicted. Against his better judgment, he stiffly said, “Explain.”

“Arra and I, we left first,” Lurra sniffled, “We were raised by the Yiga Clan, our parents are still there and-- and they write us letters. That’s all, I swear!”

“You were never from Kakariko.”

“L-Leklan is, he’s from Kakariko but-- no, no, not the rest of us, I’m sorry for lying,” Lurra cried, “I’m sorry, we’re all reformed Sheikah. No one from home-- from the Clan-- knows that we live in Hebra. We can’t go back home and we can’t go to Kakariko so we live here! We’re all we have--  _ please,  _ please don’t kill me!”   
“How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

“You can read the letter! It’s from my mom, she-- she wants to leave, she has my younger sister there and she wants to come here. It’s all in the letter, just please, I’m begging you, don’t kill me. Please, please, don’t kill me. I don’t want to hurt you or the Queen--”

Link pulled the blade away from her throat. “Stay where you are, do not move.”

Lurra whimpered but nodded fiercely, biting her lip in an attempt to control her sobs. Link clenched his jaw. He never took his eyes off of her as he stepped to his left and felt around for the letter on the table. 

He skimmed the words on the page in between frequent glances at Lurra, who kept her promise and remained still other than her violent trembling. Every word she said was true. Her mother spoke frantically of taking her little sister and running in the night, away from the dangerous Clan and what appeared to be an equally dangerous father. She pleaded for money to make it north. Money that Lurra did not have, it seemed. Link set the letter back down carefully on the table. 

“I’m… I’m so sorry,” he said softly, offering his hand to aid Lurra up from the ground.

She wiped at her wet face once she had risen to her feet. Her bottom lip was caught in her teeth. She looked at Link like she was waiting to be struck once more. 

Link set the knife down onto the counter beside Lurra and backed away with his hands up in the air. “I won’t hurt you. I promise. I’m sorry I... I made a judgment. I was mistaken, and I’m really sorry. I wish you had told me sooner.”

Lurra wiped her cheeks again, “It’s okay. I understand, it just scared me is all.”

“Scared me too.”

Lurra let out a small, quivering giggle, “It’s your job to protect the Queen from the Yiga Clan, I can’t really blame you. But I swear to you, I don’t work for them. I-- I haven’t been back there since we moved here. It’s more dangerous to defect than it is to stay but… we couldn’t. That’s why we’ve been trying to make a home here.”

“I know of someone in Kakariko Village,” Link said, “He used to be Yiga. He’s made a home there, it’s not impossible.”

Lurra shook her head, “We’d be too easy to find. They’d-- they’d kidnap us, take us back and…” She squeezed her eyes shut, “I can’t go back. I can’t go back there.”

Link nodded, “Okay, okay, I understand.”

“Are you, um,” Lurra swallowed, “Are you going to tell the Queen? Or anyone else?”

Link thought for a moment. He then said, “I don’t see why I would need to.”   
Lurra sighed in relief and nodded. “Thank you. It’s… it’s humiliating, coming from there. I just want to leave it in the past. We all do. It’s a bad place, Link. The man who took over when Kohga died is a  _ monster _ .”   
Link’s heart sank. Here he thought he had done Hyrule a favor by killing Master Kohga. He said, “Your mother really wants to leave?”

“Yes,” Lurra looked away, “But it’s easier said than done.”   
“She needs money.”

“Money, luck, and more bravery than I think she can muster,” Lurra admitted, “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve wanted to go back there to help. But there’s spies on every road. We’re lucky they haven’t found us here, but it’s probably only a matter of time.”   
“The Castle would offer asylum.”   
“You think there aren’t Yiga spies in Castle Town?” Lurra chuckled humorlessly.

Link pursed his lips, looking down.

“No, we chose this life. We chose this place. We’ve got numbers and we got the same training that they all did. We can protect ourselves, just… you didn’t see that letter. Please.”

Link nodded.

“Thank you.”

“The man that took over after Master Kohga,” Link asked, “Who is he?”

Silently, Lurra crossed back over to the seat Link had found her in. She picked up her coffee cup and stared into it. With a shudder, she muttered, “Master Hidran.”

“This Hidran person…”

“He’s, um… he’s a radical.”

“Isn’t the whole Clan a radical sect?”

“Sure,” Lurra said, taking a sip, “But he’s a radical against his own people. See, we’d had nothing to do for such a long time. When your cause is revolting against a crown, and that crown is gone for a hundred years, what can you do? Hidran is older, he was a teenager before the Calamity. He’s one of the few elders we have left… and after Kohga died, we needed leadership. He stepped up. He reinvigorated us. He told us that the Queen could never be allowed to rise to power once more, that we had war on our hands. We were so scared.”   
“You’d never known a truly militarized Yiga Clan,” Link frowned.

Lurra shook her head, “No, we hadn’t. But the few who had-- Hidran included-- remembered. The regime is harsh. Dissenters are punished by death. Arra and I never fit in anyway, so we resolved to leave when things got ugly. It wasn’t an easy choice. We tried to take our mother, but she was pregnant. Our father… well, he follows Hidran whole-heartedly, but that’s not a surprise.”

Link sighed, unsure of what to make of this new information. The Yiga were secretive, but he thought for sure the Castle would receive information on this development sooner. He settled down into the seat across from Lurra and awkwardly placed the knife he’d taken down on the table between them. 

“I thought I was doing the right thing,” Link admitted, “I thought… I thought if I took out the leader, the Clan would crumble.”

“Nothing is ever as simple as you want it to be.” Lurra wiped a straggling tear from her eye. “I don’t intend to defend them, I really don’t. But the royal family has tried on so many occasions to do exactly what you do. Take out our leader, right? But someone worse always steps up.”

“We create a power vacuum.”

Lurra nodded sadly. “Yes. Leaving the rest of us-- people like Arra and I, whose only crime was being born in the wrong place-- to fend for ourselves. You forget that there’s children there, there’s families, just like any other township. You never see us as people.”

“I never thought of it that way.” Link toyed with the fraying edge of the table runner, avoiding eye contact. “When we talk about the Yiga Clan-- back at the Castle, I mean-- we only talk about your atrocities, about how evil you all are.”

“Do you not think we have cause to feel the same towards  _ you? _ ”

Link looked up at her. 

Lurra’s eyes were sad but strong. She said, “The royal family killed the Sheikah for our technology. Technology they encouraged us to create! But when we became a potential threat, we were slaughtered in droves, forced to live as meager peasants to appease people that were only using us in the first place. And when we, the Yiga Clan, attempted to defend ourselves? We were villainized, propagandized, hated for not letting ourselves get trampled over by a monarchy we had every right to see as  _ evil _ . Can you see, Link, why we hate you? All of you? Our choices are to live in isolated, barren desert wastelands under the rule of whatever tyrant this century has to offer, or throw ourselves at the mercy of people who have never,  _ ever  _ taken any care of us. Can you understand us?”

Link’s heart was heavy. “I thought I… I thought I was doing the right thing,” He repeatedly dumbly.

“I know. Heroes always do.”

“I can’t explain how sorry I am. There has to be a way to fix this.”

Lurra shrugged, “I don’t know if there is. It might be too late.”

“It  _ can’t _ be,” Link insisted.

Lurra, despite the heartbreak so plainly wearing down on her, gave Link a small and tired smile. “It’s been 10,000 years. If there was a way to settle this, don’t you think someone would’ve figured it out by now?”

Link ran his hands over his face. “I hate this. I do, I hate this, I-- I can’t stand not being able to fix something. It should’ve never gotten this bad.”

Lurra reached across the table and offered him her hand beside the knife that he had used to attack her. “You’re a real do-gooder type, aren’t you?”

He placed his palm atop hers. “It’s kind of my job.”

Lurra smiled warmly. “It’s not a bad thing. It’s only a shame that it’ll keep you from ever finding peace.”

Link sighed deeply. He leveled his gaze with hers and admitted, “I knew that already.”

The rest of the Sheikah group, as well as Zelda, rose not much later. Lurra and Link greeted them with a breakfast they’d prepared together. It wasn’t much, seeing as Junla apparently usually did the cooking and Link was way out of practice since being waited on by the Castle’s kitchen staff, but the ravenous horde of tired youth didn’t seem to mind. The gulped down sliced fruit, eggs, and toast with half-lidded eyes, crowded around in the common area as they had been the night before. Link wondered when the last time was that anyone sat down at a table to eat. 

Junla laid on the carpet on her back with her hands folded over her full belly. “Sucks that you guys have to go. It’s been so fun hanging out with you!”

Zelda, decidedly not a breakfast person, picked at the stem of the apple she had solely selected. She smiled down at Junla’s pouty face. “It’s been nice, yes, but we have a strict schedule to adhere to. I’m afraid we’ve somehow already gotten a day behind.”

“Going to see the Gorons next, right?” Kozus asked. 

Zelda nodded, “Indeed.”

“Ah, what I wouldn’t give to live somewhere warm like that again!” Arra said through a yawn.

Leklan swallowed his bite quickly and commented, “I wouldn’t call Necluda  _ warm _ \--”

Arra’s eyes widened just a bit, recognizing his slip up, before reclaiming his composure. Awkwardly, he laughed, “Oh! No, yeah, I just mean, like, anywhere is warmer than Hebra.”

If Zelda noticed anything, she didn’t mention it. Link had promised Lurra that he would not tell anyone about the group’s past, and he intended to stick to that as long as he could, but he felt that a frank talk about the Castle’s relationship with the Yiga Clan was in order as soon as they returned home. Lurra’s perspective was beyond enlightening. He couldn’t be sure of how warmly it would be received, but he had to find some way to get through to everyone so that real change-- unstifled by fear-- could be enacted. 

“I’ve never seen a Goron in person,” Kozus said, “Are they really  _ that _ big?”

Link nodded, “Huge, yup.”

“Man…” Kozus blinked, “Was that insensitive? I think I’m still a little drunk.”

Lurra patted his shoulder, “That’s okay, buddy.”

With what little warmth Hebra could offer for the day beginning to settle over the snowfield, it was time to depart from this cozy resting place. Hugs were exchanged, non-perishable treats were traded, and a small sadness coiled in on itself in the pit of Link’s stomach when Leklan urged them to come visit again soon, that it got lonely up there in the north. As much as Link tried to convince himself that it wasn’t solely  _ his  _ fault they were in this situation, his share of the blame could not be denied. He thought that perhaps he was thankful Lurra did not forgive him outright. He did not want absolution, fearing that it would keep him from feeling compelled to right history’s wrongs. 

With Zelda occupied with her own farewells on the porch, Link tugged at Lurra’s elbow, pulling her away from the crowd. She gave him a quizzical look but followed him a few steps out into the snow. Tightening her shawl around her shoulders, she asked Link what was wrong.

Link took her hand and pressed a sum of rupees into her palm that would make even the wealthy Hyrulean nobles blush. He said, “It should be more than enough.”

Lurra’s eyes widened incredulously. “Link, no. I can’t take your money--”

Link shook his head firmly. “It’s not mine. It’s the Castle’s. Reparations, right? Get your mother out of the Clan.”

Lurra tentatively closed her fist around the rupees. “Are you sure?”   
“More than sure. It’s the least I can do.”

Lurra bit her lip as tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. “Hylia bless you both. Thank you, thank you so much.”

She pulled Link into a tight hug that he was more than happy to return in matching fervor. Never in his life did he think he would befriend someone hailing from the Yiga Clan, but stranger things had happened over the past few years of his life. 

Once they pulled away from their embrace, Lurra took Link’s face in her hands. Her fingers were cold on his flushed cheeks. It was a Sheikah blessing, Link realized, one that he remembered often watching the performance of during his youth on the Plateau. It was a casual, common thing, but he felt the weight of it in his chest. Lurra placed the pads of her thumbs beneath both of his eyes, mimicking the teardrop of her culture’s emblem. He closed his eyes and accepted her silent blessing. 

Lurra kissed his forehead briefly and released him. “You’re a good man, Link. You’re an alright hero, but you’re a very good man.”

Link smiled up at her, a haloed in the rising sun. “I’d rather be that than the other way around.”

Zelda approached them, rosy-faced in the cold with her arms crossed tightly over her chest. “Are we ready to go?”

“Yep,” Link confirmed, readjusting his bag on his shoulder. 

“Excellent. Thank you again for everything, Lurra. Your company was a pleasure.” Zelda said sweetly.

Lurra ducked her head and giggled, “Of course, your highness.”

As they began their trek away from the Snowfield Stable, waving over their shoulders at their new friends, Link grinned over at Zelda. Now out of earshot, he commented, “You didn’t have to go that hard on her.”

“Oh, so now  _ I  _ can’t flirt?” Zelda returned his grin.

“I’d prefer if you didn’t, no. It grosses me out,” Link said with a nauseated expression.

Zelda tried to elbow Link in the ribs, but it was swiftly dodged. It would’ve been an easy maneuver had he not tripped on a rock hidden under the snow and stumbled. Zelda laughed and reached her hand out to grab him before he crashed down. Clasping her wrist, Link yanked her down into the snow beside him. She shrieked as she fell, yelling something about the snow soaking through her clothes. It went unheard due to the volume of Link’s laughter.

“Not funny!” She insisted, all humor wiped from her face. 

“Kind of funny,” Link protested, still smiling. 

“ _ Not  _ funny!” Zelda pounded her tiny mitten-clad fists against Link’s chest a few times before hauling herself to her feet. “And I’m  _ not  _ helping you this time!”

“Ack,” Link stretched his arms up into the air like a dead bug, “C’mon, my backpack’s too heavy, help me.”

Zelda shook her head, dusting the snow off of the back of her legs with a pronounced frown, “No!”

“Fine. Leave me here to die, see how you fare out in the wild.”

Zelda stared down at him with narrow eyes. Finally, she uncrossed her arms and dramatically offered him her hand. 

“Thank you,” Link said, reaching for her. 

For a moment, he really did consider being a good person. But he figured that his gift to Lurra filled his moral quota for the day, so if he pulled Zelda into the snow again and  _ really  _ pissed her off, it wouldn’t upset the balance  _ too  _ much.

The moment his fingertips brushed against Zelda’s, she pulled her hand back. “Ha! Do you think I’m that gullible?” 

Link snorted, flopping his hooded head back into the snow and dropping his arm. “You know what? Touché, your majesty.”

Zelda turned and started on the path again. She called over her shoulder, “Maybe you’ll get lucky and the wolves will eat you before you freeze to death!”

“Maybe you’ll get lucky and a lynel will find you before the Yiga Clan does!” Link called back. He flailed momentarily, realizing that it was actually kind of hard to get back up with this weight on his back. But he supposed that he’d earned this one. 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this first chapter! Kudos and comments are greatly appreciated, I try to respond to as many as I can!  
> Follow me on Tumblr: @persona4.tumblr.com


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